


Dichotomy

by Jacynon



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous Relationships, Bodyswap, F/M, Mental Link, Other, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, post-S8 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-04-07 19:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14087715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacynon/pseuds/Jacynon
Summary: Death within the Departed Realm is much like life within a novel's messy, unfinished outline.





	1. A Missile That's Guided to You

**Author's Note:**

> (takes every liberty I possibly can with what hasn't been revealed in canon yet, knowing full well everything here will be totally wrong) Parkour
> 
> This ended up oddly suggestive despite me not really intending it to be romantic outside of the Jay/Nya content. I'm just a bitch who likes to Hashtag Cope

When Morro isn't thinking, the Departed Realm is a damp black void.

The world around him is an ever-changing faint tint of color, a mist enveloping him, far too suffocating to be feasibly comfortable and yet he's somehow perfectly content. It sticks to what he'd identify as his skin if he wasn't dead and very much without his real body. He knows this is the realm's true state, but it's not the one most see. The majority can shape the mist into what they want, to live and relive their most wondrous memories and to relish in their ideal afterlife, if they so wish to think it up.

But Morro doesn't often think anymore.

He's done enough thinking in his afterlife than most should, and even more while he was alive. He's finished thinking, thank you very much. Just about ready to sit in eternal silence and forget all about his identity for the rest of his un-life. Maybe he can fall asleep and never wake up.

Sure sucks that sleep isn't possible for the dead. He thinks that's a bit ironic. And also bullshit. But that's just his opinion.

It's also his respectful opinion that the Departed Realm is boring.

Well, perhaps not _boring_. He can create scenarios that would more than likely excite him, allow his subconscious to take hold and surprise him if he so wishes. He remembers doing that when he'd first been sent here. He'd conjured false figures in the shape of his old master just for the sake of striking them down, again and again. Now, though, he's felt the luxury of leaving and of living again, despite it being through the lens of a body all wrong. And being able to escape for that short amount of time was quite the sobering experience.

He's taken the opportunity to reflect on his life, on his decisions, on the mistakes he's made and the people he's given up by fault of his own hubris. Maybe he's never been wise. Maybe he's never _wanted_ to be wise. And he's not going to say that this time on his own has made him such.

But he can at least say that he's matured.

That's probably why the word _boring_ comes to mind.

It's impossible to tell how much time has passed. He's not even sure if time works in this realm the same way it does everywhere else, and wouldn't be surprised if that isn't the case. He's been alone with his thoughts for what's felt like an eternity, plagued by the actions he can never take back, the people he's broken who can never be fixed, and all he can wonder is if this is supposed to be Hell.

Snorting at the thought, he picks himself up and starts pacing.

Nah, he knows Hell.

He'd probably call that the Cursed Realm.

The Departed Realm, on the other hand, is a beast he's yet to tackle. He figures the place must be gigantic if he can walk in any given direction and not find anyone for quite some time. Then again, he doesn't recall anyone ever finding an ' _edge_ ' to the realm, or any indication that it's finite. He only knows he's not alone because he's met others by pure chance. Faces he barely recognizes, passed souls he can't place.

And it doesn't matter that he can't place them, because they never stay. Everyone always has their own fantasy to attend to, their own lives to relive, and he's only a stranger passing through. He knows no one and can stay nowhere, and there's nothing in his mind safe enough to retreat to.

He is, in essence, alone.

Surrounded and alone.

* * *

He comes across a bar within the sea of nothingness.

His eyebrow raises before he even considers who could've made it. Thousands of questions run through his mind, one of the first being _why?_ He's found buildings and landmarks across the realm before, but this is something peculiar. Conjuring a bar was one of the first things Morro did when he arrived in the Departed Realm - even _he'll_ admit to his unhealthy alcohol dependency - but he knows from personal experience that you can't get drunk here. You can _imagine_ that you're drunk, feel a memory of what it's like, but it's never measured up to reality.

The bouncer just outside the building is for show - he knows, because the man doesn't even acknowledge his existence. This isn't Morro's vision, after all, and he has no interest in trying to interact with it. All he wants is to locate the person who's responsible for it.

Morro has to give whoever made this place some due credit. It's tangible, realistic, a lot more detailed than some other illusions he's passed through before. It's hard for him to drown out the _clinking_ of glasses, the _clack_ of chips being thrown onto tables and the incessant voices that he's sure are just figments of someone else's imagination. Everything feels so _real_ , so easy to fall into.

But he focuses. He closes his mind and opens it at the same time, and hones in on the source of energy.

One man stands out.

One man, sitting at the end of the bar, drinking his death away.

Morro winces in understanding of the type of person he's probably dealing with.

Approaching the man isn't the issue, he finds. What's harder to do is to get his attention. He analyzes him carefully, noting his unusual appearance. The man looks nothing like what Morro's ever seen, unable to identify him by a point of reference. All the same, he has an odd presence, as if he radiates a disgusting mixture of self-importance and self-hatred that Morro knows far too intimately to be comfortable in the vicinity of.

He doesn't even have to reach a hand out, doesn't have to budge the man, before he turns to look at Morro with unfocused eyes. "What, you want an autograph, or somethin'?"

The only thing Morro can think to respond with is, "What?"

Baffling him even more is when the man starts to shift, reaching around his pockets and grimacing to himself, as if looking for something.

"Ugh, got a pen anywhere? Dunno where to sign - "

Shaking his head, Morro attempts to ground himself in reality. Nothing this guy has been saying is making any sense. It's like he's from another world, or another time, and Morro imagines that the latter is much more likely. The building itself has quite the modern air to it, now that he notices. Like the man has only just recently died. Morro's eyes focus and he feels the reality around him start to fade as his voice becomes more stern. "I don't want...that. Who are you?"

For some reason, the simple question seems to offend the man.

"You've never heard of _Cliff Gordon?_ Why, I was a star!" the man seems to choke on his words just then, face falling to a defeated and pitiful exhaustion. He stares deeply into his glass of what looks like scotch with a deep sorrow that holds a lot more weight than his words do. " _Am_ a star. I _am_ a star."

The pungent smell starts to overwhelm Morro's senses, alcohol that makes his brain burn. _Focus, focus. It's not real._ He can't let himself get caught up in the fantasy, no matter how intoxicating it is.

He lets out a heavy breath and takes a seat next to Cliff. "Looking a lot more dead than most stars."

"...I know," Cliff responds in a broken tone, the bartender in front of them going still as a statue. " _I know_. What do you think all this is for, kid?"

Furrowing his brows, Morro shakes his head. He feels more sick now than he thinks he should. "You're not actually drunk," he accuses, though it sounds more like he's trying to genuinely convince Cliff of it than call him out. "You're just remembering what it was like to be drunk."

"God, it's better than nothing."

The bartender starts moving again and pours Morro a shot, which he immediately downs. It barely does anything, goes down in a way he's not sure how to identify, but it's a sensation all the same. If he can feel anything at all, he wonders if it's worth it. His body feels hot all over and he thinks about losing himself to the night. Instead he just leans on one hand and gives a heavy sigh. "Might be."

They don't speak afterward.

Cliff is a man Morro knows he can identify with, but he doesn't want to see himself any more than he has to. He takes a few drinks, hopes the buzz lasts, and walks out.

Just like always, he moves on.

* * *

He's not sure why it's so _cold_.

Doing his best to will the feeling away, he lets it fade, the memory flickering as he attempts to warm himself up while still remaining within the vision. Woods and frost surround him, the snow crunching beneath his feet. His head swims and he hugs himself, doing his best _not_ to shiver, _not_ to give in to the false weather. Maybe he's always felt cold, but that doesn't mean he has to pretend the physical freezing wind around him is real.

It's not even his own creation. It has no right to be affecting him in any way. Through sheer willpower and rage, he warms himself up and treks through the land.

Right up until he finds a tower.

It's in the guise of an elder tree, though Morro can tell without much effort that it stands out from the rest. He pulls the door open, only to be met with a spiral staircase.

Even before he reaches the bottom, a voice strikes through the winter air.

"I wasn't expecting visitors."

Morro's head jerks up and he's met with the gaze of an old man. There's something gentle about him, something wise, and Morro's heart aches with how much the other reminds him of his former master. He hesitates and opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure of how to answer.

Eventually, he finds his voice. "Got bored. Thought I'd do some sight-seeing."

The place is a lot smaller than he'd imagined, a lot more like a home. The man's hunched over a workbench, but a stove sits in the corner right across from a single bed. It's hard to tell if this would be anywhere near comfortable of a living arrangement, but Morro assumes it's much too detailed of a place for the old man to have conjured without some sort of reference, especially considering the land surrounding it.

Most don't put this much effort into their visions unless they're drawing from a specific memory.

The man runs a hand through his white hair and he gives Morro a relaxed smile. "You're in the afterlife, my boy," the way he talks reminds Morro so badly of Wu that he feels his stomach churn as the words continue. "The Departed Realm, a place where you can make your wildest dreams come true, and you're bored?"

"It's all a lie, you know?" Morro instinctively bites at the notion, the bitterness he'd forgotten for the longest time coming back full-force. "None of this is real. Just your imagination. I don't feel like wasting my time here."

He's expecting the man to turn him away, to argue against him or to get angry, but none of that happens. Instead, he pushes up his glasses, giving a gentle smile as if Morro is a child who doesn't know any better.

There's a gentleness in his voice that makes Morro want to cry out in anguish or to lash out, though he feels himself rooted to his spot as the man speaks. "You're still young," comes the accusation, and Morro wants to refute that, but he can't. "You'll learn the value in wasting time eventually. Sometimes, when the world is telling you to sit back and enjoy yourself, you should listen to it. Interested in some tea?"

Something in Morro's chest seizes up.

It's possible that he wants to cry, though he knows he won't do that. Even if it kills him, he won't cry in front of anyone else, because that's just not what he does. And yet, it still pains him to come up with some sort of insult, to push the man away. Perhaps he's done enough of pushing people away. He averts his eyes and shuffles his feet on the last step of the stairs, leaning himself against the wall and crossing his arms.

He says the first thing that comes to mind, the first observation he's sure about when it comes to the old man. "You must have lived a good life."

Unsurprisingly, he's met with a sharp intake of breath, then a small smile. "I did," the man replies simply. "I certainly did."

 _Lucky you_ , is what Morro thinks, but he doesn't say it.

"Well, I appreciate your offer," he instead replies, making his way back up the stairs. "But I think I'll be on my way. Got places to go. Faces to see."

Surprisingly, he seems genuinely downtrodden at the rejection. It almost fills Morro with enough regret to go back on it, but he resists, and the man speaks before Morro can make that decision. "That's a shame. You're welcome here again, if you'd like," he says as Morro makes his way to the exit and opens the door, somehow shocking the Wind Ninja even more. "I go by Doctor Julien. And you?"

For a moment, Morro stops.

It's strange. Very few have been quite as interested in him as Julien. In fact, he doesn't remember the last time someone's asked for his name without him prompting first. That thought _also_ gives him pause. Just how social has he gotten? He's willfully attempted to strike up conversations with strangers and hasn't even thought twice about it. Is he _that_ lonely?

He thinks of wandering out without responding. He might have done exactly that, if he were in a different place in his life.

But he turns his head to the side and glances one last time at Julien. "Morro. It's Morro," he finally says. "And...thanks."

* * *

Morro thinks he's somehow gotten lost, then laughs at the idea, because he's never quite been _found_.

But, then, he thinks there's a difference between wandering through the mist of the Departed Realm and wandering through what feels like a literal maze. Even though he supposes the two are one and the same. He doesn't attempt to will the vision away this time, only trudges through it in hopes that it'll eventually go away, or that he'll come across something to make it worth his while.

He doubts the latter.

But, hey, he's optimistic.

Silently, he wonders just where he'd gotten this brand of optimism.

It feels as though he's been walking for hours, despite the fact that he's unable to get physically tired. His feet carry him throughout the labyrinth, down a wooded path. It all looks oddly familiar, as if he's been here before, and he somehow knows in the back of his mind just where to go. Like there's a specific destination. It's an odd jungle, like he's been transported to another world, and Morro's never quite felt so _trapped_ before.

Buzzing fills his ears and he pushes back a vine, and a particularly sharp branch next to him cuts his arm. He hisses in pain, but shrugs it off. Nothing that'll likely last.

The tendrils remind him of veins. The forest, a living being.

Like being suffocated or smothered. Everywhere he turns is another shade of green, another impenetrable wall, and he can barely breathe. But something deep down calms him, tells him that he knows exactly where to go, and he manages to move forward. He cuts through the heavy leaves, follows the path of a flowing river, and ignores the voice in his head telling him to turn back.

Eventually, after what's seemed like hours, he comes across a clearing.

Just below his feet is where the river's been going, a waterfall leading to the land beneath him. He looks on across the land while atop the hill. Flowers and plants he's not even able to identify adorn the edges and he's suddenly overcome with a sense of peace, like he's found exactly what he's looking for.

It's _beautiful_.

There's only one problem.

He doesn't remember anything about this place, nor did he purposely create it. That's something he's been pushing in the back of his mind the whole time. He'd expected to find someone else, to see that it's all the creation of a person nearby, but he can't sense another's energy for what seems like miles. He reasons that it doesn't make sense for this place to exist if no one made it.

_Who's responsible for this?_

And when he looks down into the rushing tide at his feet, he panics.

Because he gets his answer.

He doesn't see himself in the water, though looking back at him is _someone's_ reflection. His eyes aren't the same color, his hair no longer black with a green streak. He sees slightly younger features, blonde hair, an outfit only recognizable because he knows a different body's worn it.

He sees Lloyd Garmadon. The Green Ninja.

The body he'd possessed.

Hatred fills his heart, though for who, he's unsure.

Then, just like that, his mind starts to reel. He shakes his head and covers his face, no longer wanting to look at it, because it's _wrong, wrong, wrong._ It's not him and it's not anyone he wants to see. It registers in his head now, what this all is. _Lloyd's_ memories. He's drawing from what he's seen in that head, from what he'd gathered while invading Lloyd's mind, from the memories he had no right to.

It takes everything in Morro to not throw up.

 _Guilty. Guilty._ He pleads to the imaginary judge in his head, the one who's looking at him with penetrating and incriminating eyes, and he pleads guilty.

When he steps backward, he feels his feet slip on the wet rocks.

And, suddenly, he's falling.

* * *

When he finally comes to, he's met with one piercing eye, a blue so dark he could easily mistake it for black if not for the fact that the woman it's attached to is only centimeters away from him.

Needless to say, it startles him.

She dodges just in time when he shoots up and gets to his feet far too quickly. He thinks that since he's dead, he shouldn't be so out of it, and then remembers that he was _unconscious_ and almost gets even more whiplash from that realization. How did _that_ happen? He was certain that you couldn't sleep in the Departed Realm, and that applies to being knocked out. It shouldn't have been possible for that to happen, unless he was somehow mistaken, and he's certain he wasn't.

Then, he remembers the cut he'd gotten on his arm just minutes before.

When he looks down, he's met only with the clear skin of his arm, no wound in sight.

_He died._

The understanding clicks into place. Since he's only witnessed it happen, he didn't make the immediate connection, but it makes sense. A fall from that height surely killed him. He died, and he doesn't even remember it happening. He's not sure if that's a good thing.

"You're a new face," the woman cuts through his confusion and he snaps his head over to her, quickly taking in her appearance.

Needless to say, he's seen prettier girls.

She's got part of her black hair messily tied up and a poorly-wrapped bandage over one eye. Her tattered blue-grey shawl looks like it hasn't been washed in years and she definitely smells the same. Wrapped around her waist and leaning just over her right shoulder is what Morro can tell is a purple Anacondrai, while another, much smaller red one hides behind the woman's left leg.

Trying his best to take in her odd appearance, he nods and clears his throat. "Likewise," he eyes the snakes carefully, unsure if they're going to make a move to attack him. "I think so, anyway. You do look...nevermind."

He shakes his head of the thought. Even though she looks similar, it's highly unlikely he's right in his assumption.

Starting with the red one, the Serpentine speak up, and Morro feels his shoulders tense.

"Problem, _Missss_?"

"We can take care of him," the purple snake slithers around her and leans closer, "if you so wish."

Thankfully, the woman doesn't seem all too interested in their proposal. She shrugs and raises an eyebrow, eyeing Morro up like he's some sort of wild animal that she's not quite sure how to figure out. Normally, he'd be insulted by that, but he knows when he's outnumbered. Maybe he'd have overestimated his own abilities in the past, but now, he wonders if he'd be able to take them all on by himself. "I don't see a reason to. He hasn't done anything," she states casually, calming the Anacondrai down.

It's unreasonable to feel grateful to the woman, but he can't help the relief that overcomes him. _Not_ being in danger is preferable, right now. He'd rather not die _again_. There are plenty of people within the Departed Realm who're just flat out hostile, those who take pleasure from hunting others, though he supposes those are few and far between in comparison to the vast majority.

He shakes his head from the thought and hones in on her most apparent feature, doing what he can to produce small-talk. "What happened to your eye?"

"Won't grow back," she shrugs without a care, like it's a question she's had to answer a hundred times before. "Body parts only come back once you've fully ' _died_ ' and no one's killed me yet. Lucky me, huh?"

He scrunches up his nose and frowns.

"I'd kill myself, if I were you," he states with a shrug. "Just to get the eye back. Seems inconvenient."

It's odd to be giving someone genuine advice by telling them to commit suicide, but he supposes that's the nature of their world.

He can't imagine how it'd feel to be tortured in this realm, to have to be awake through any kind of intense pain. It's simple enough to keep someone alive while making them suffer. Morro knows that from personal experience. But, he thinks the limitations of what one can endure are different here than in the world of the living, and that terrifies him. Just what kind of cruel non-existence is every passed soul supposed to live?

Thankfully, the woman's voice cuts right through his worries, and he observes her as she gives a lazy shrug. "Dying isn't so simple. Feels the same as dying does in any other realm. Not fun. I'll hold off as long as I can manage. This thing isn't too bad to deal with," she points a finger to her eye with a wry smile. "Now, if I'd lost an arm or a leg, that'd be another story."

Morro thinks it over, then shrugs. "Fair enough."

Losing an eye would be awful, he thinks, but he's not actually sure if he'd die to get it back if it were to happen to him.

She smirks and raises an eyebrow, absently running a finger down the end of the sword attached to her back. "So, what's your deal? You some kinda snake wannabe?"

Even though it confuses him at first, he quickly understands she's referring to his green attire. It's surprising how quickly Morro can still get offended.

"Not a fan of snakes," he states definitively, catching the attention of both of the Anacondrai draped around the woman's body. He feels an odd amount of pride as they shoot him dirty looks, but he focuses himself on the woman and continues. "Just a man who couldn't be saved. A man who's done worse to the world than most."

Surprisingly, she lets out a laugh. "Wow, you're a ray of sunshine."

He's taken aback by the sarcasm and crosses his arms with a frown.

Turning to defensive accusation, he rolls his eyes and toughens his stance. "You seem more like the snake wannabe between the two of us."

Even more surprising is how she doesn't at all take offense to it. She just shrugs and moves to scratch beneath the chin of the red snake, as if he's a pet she views fondly. "The dead Serpentine listen to me because they look for leadership. I'm the only one willing to give it anymore. They have things they want to see in this realm and I don't mind them using me as a key," she explains in a way he feels like he should understand, but he's so caught up in his own prejudices that he's not sure of how to feel.

"A key? This place is just a bunch of memories," he states, gesturing to the flickering abyss around them. "Anyone with enough phantom energy and a good grasp on their past can live in peace with what you can create here."

She only nods in response and gives him a stern look. "Exactly," her hand finds the heads of both snakes and, before Morro can fully register, the world around them starts to shift. "I'm a lot better with uncovering memories than your average girl. I'm able to...work through the mist in ways no one else can, so to speak."

Before he can ask what she means, he gets his answer.

Rock forms all around, shaking the nothingness they're standing on and encasing them within a series of what look like underground tunnels. Pathways open up all around him, leading to what he can only assume to be nowhere, though they're all pitch black and he's unable to confirm his suspicion. He leans on the new wall near him to help steady himself and watches in baffled awe as the snakes detach themselves from the woman, clearly excited by the new terrain.

First speaks the red one, exclaiming with a laugh, "An angel! She's an angel."

When Morro looks to his side, he flinches at how close the wide-eyed purple snake has suddenly gotten. "Miss X is our guide in the afterlife," it explains breathlessly, as if he's worshiping the woman with every syllable. "She gives us _sssuch_ wonderful visions, visions of our families, vivid recreations of our home, memories of our friends. We live in Heaven because of her. She's an immortal being who exists outside of time! A true messenger of God!"

Rubbing at his temples, Morro resists the urge to groan. It's a lot of information to take in and he's fairly sure he believes about none of it to be reliable.

"Can't be so immortal if she's here," even though he says it under his breath, the accusation doesn't go unnoticed by the Anacondrai, and Morro resists the urge to smile at their intense glares. He instead raises his voice and narrows his eyes at her. "X, was it? Just who are you?"

The question seems to surprise her, like it's something no one has asked her before.

He understands that feeling, to an extent. It's not often that people actively seek each other out within the Departed Realm. Most settle on isolating themselves, which he'd done plenty of in the brief time he existed within it before being sent off to the horrific scape of the Cursed Realm. He's unsure of whether it was the universe giving him something of a trial period before he was properly punished for his crimes, but he doesn't care enough to dwell on it too much.

And she doesn't give him much time to, either.

She shrugs and leans against the wall. "A remnant," she says like it's supposed to explain everything. "I've also done more harm than most can imagine. But, well - don't worry too much about that. I'm just a girl who couldn't be saved, I guess you could say."

He thinks he might've found someone he doesn't mind.

Still fairly annoyed by her, though.

With a smile that's only slightly forced, he holds his hand out. "Well, isn't that a coincidence? I'm Morro."

Surprisingly, she scrunches up her nose like she's not sure what exactly he's doing.

It almost hurts him, mostly angers him, but it's gone from her face in a flash and he doesn't have enough time to react to it before she takes a deep breath and nods. Her demeanor makes it look like she's struggling to make a tough choice, though he's not sure what it could possibly be. She reaches out and their handshake has an odd sort of finality to it that Morro can't quite place. Right up until she opens her mouth to speak, that is. "I know. I remember you. We've met."

His mind goes blank.

Lights go off in his head and he's not sure what he feels. Anger, maybe. But he feels that almost all the time. Betrayal, partially. It's not like he's right to feel like he should've been able to trust this stranger - _not a stranger_ \- but it still makes his stomach turn to think that he's been having a civil, normal conversation with this woman.

He jerks his hand away and she lets hers fall to her side as he narrows his eyes at her, feeling both repulsed and alarmed, backing away from her and looking her up one more time. He curses himself for being so stupid, so dense, because he should've known from the beginning. He should've listened to his own paranoid observations. "That...girl," he's able to get out eventually as she stares at him like she was expecting this sort of reaction. "With the Ninja. You really _are_ her."

 _Nya_. That's the name that stands out in his mind.

She gives a passive shrug. "I was. Not anymore, though."

That just makes his mind reel even more.

He doesn't even know he's losing control of himself until he feels his hair flow in the rushing air and sees the woman's own covering her one good eye. "The Cursed Realm," the accusation falls out of his mouth, spilling like the waterfall that's been long since warped out of existence, and the walls around him suddenly feel too close. _She_ feels too close, even though she's clearly giving him space. The Serpentine have already backed away from him, upset and frightened by the wind swirling around them. He clutches his head because it _hurts_ , and the memory _hurts_ , and everything _hurts_. "It's gone because of _you_."

As if looking for any sense of repentance, he stares into her expression and sees nothing.

"I destroyed a lot more than the realm itself," she states like she's rubbing it in, but her tone is calm and leveled and factual. "Homes. Lives. If given the opportunity, I would do the same all over again."

Now, that hurts.

All the same, he feels himself start to calm down, somehow placated by her inability to see just how awful her words sound. It's more that he's just a bit dumbfounded. Morro himself isn't a good person, so he doesn't have the right to judge anyone else, but he can't help the impulsive question that he ends up asking. "What kind of monster are you?"

The corner of her mouth turns up in a half-smile after she raises her hands to readjust her ponytail. _Amused_. She's amused by him, not threatened. He could've attacked her. He didn't, but he was close, and she must have known that. But what gets him most is that she doesn't seem to have the same hatred in her eyes that he remembers seeing before, when he'd possessed the body of the Green Ninja. She just stares at him like he exists and that's all.

But she still responds to his inquiry, the one he'd almost forgotten he'd asked. "Really?" she starts, saying exactly the type of thing his own self-hatred feeds him in a way that seems more humorous than biting. "Do you seriously think _you_ have the right to be asking me that question?"

Morro's breath hitches at that.

He refuses to meet her eyes, instead focusing on the ground beneath him.

"No. I suppose I don't."

* * *

His mind is still reeling from his encounter with the woman long after they've parted ways. He's not sure of the last time he'd met someone who's so utterly baffled him just by virtue of existing. X is something of an enigma, someone who seems to both see him as he really is and yet who doesn't feel the need to shy away.

 _The same type of person as Wu_ , he comes to realize, then quickly smothers that thought.

Time doesn't even really exist, as far as Morro's concerned. He's not sure if that's even true, but he mainly means that he doesn't worry about what he can't help. It's not as if he has any way to judge or measure time here. He's not even sure how long he's been walking at this point, now seeking mainly to get as far away from anyone and anything as possible. It's been tiring enough purposefully putting himself in vulnerable situations and, well, _dying_. But he supposes he doesn't have anyone else to blame. It's pretty frustrating not having anyone to get angry at but yourself.

It's when he's so far lost in his own thoughts that he notices that the mist has cleared around him, leaving him inside of a pitch black void, and he wonders if he'd done that on purpose. He can still see a layer of fog in the distance on all sides of him, as if he's within a bubble that's pushed it all away. He starts wondering what it all entails until he sees an old man's meditative figure a short distance away.

The man begins speaking even before Morro approaches him, his eyes closed as he sits cross-legged on what can only be assumed as the floor to their seemingly endless abyss.

"You've wandered through this realm much farther than most others," his voice is somewhat familiar, though Morro has a hard time placing it. "Does eternal rest not satisfy you?"

He starts to realize who it is even prior to hearing the voice, an impossible echo that breaks through Morro's haziness and grounds him despite his blank surroundings. _It can't be_ is what first runs through his mind, followed by _it must be_ and he's rendered speechless. He wonders how much more the universe wishes to punish him by forcing him face-to-face with his past, then he wonders how much right he has to complain. None, quite possibly. But he's going to do it anyway.

The mist in the distance feels like a wall, a cage within the nothingness that's trapped Morro with this man and the idea of leaving disappears from his mind without his consent. He's not sure why he's struggling to find a response instead of getting the hell away, why the idea doesn't even cross his mind, but he ends up replying regardless. "I'm bad at standing still and daydreaming."

Hearing that makes the man smile in amusement. "Bad at having a decent time, it seems."

If anything pisses Morro off, it's that look. It's the one that he's been given more times in his life than he can count, where people seem like they _know_ him more than they conceivably should, and it spikes his anxiety to the high heavens that he's not even sure exist.

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to Lord Garmadon tell me I'm boring," he speaks firmly and rolls his eyes. It's more so he doesn't have to look at the older man any more than he absolutely has to.

That hair and that face are all too familiar, and he'd already seen it once very recently in yet another situation out of his conscious control. Why does Garmadon have to look so much like his son? Morro imagines they'd be nearly identical, given the proper amount of time. It's just uncomfortable. It's why he's promptly tucked tail and retreated in the other direction whenever he'd previously known the man was nearby. Now, though, he wonders if he's willing to speak now only because of how starved he is for basic communication with other people.

But his patience starts wearing thin as Garmadon gives a low chuckle, the sound grating in Morro's head. "Now, I don't think you're boring. I think you're misguided."

 _Misguided_. Yeah, that's definitely a word that can describe Morro.

"That's not new."

Those words make Garmadon finally open his eyes and stare at Morro inquisitively, like he's only just now seeing the younger man. The shift to being given undivided attention and being under full scrutiny is a lot more incriminating than Morro expected it would ever be. "You can relive your greatest memories here," he says the same things Morro's been hearing the entire time from everyone else, again and again. "Even create a paradise, if you wish. You're limited only by what your mind can imagine."

Of course, he scoffs, because he's tired of those around him all sounding like a broken record. "That why everyone likes staying away from each other?" he asks sarcastically, then remembers himself. "Well, most everyone."

Garmadon's smile tightens with - with _pity_ \- that disgusting emotion. "We all have different desires."

That makes sense, in a way. Everyone sees what they want to see and no two people are the same. That applies even more to the dead, it seems. It's easy to break another person's illusion by wandering into it, and things usually go south if that happens, since not a lot of people take too kindly to being rudely awoken from their dreamlike state of their shared afterlife. From Morro's perspective, anyway. He's just gotten incredibly lucky these past few times - confronted with people who haven't turned him away - and he supposes their enabling behavior is what's kept him searching for others throughout the Departed Realm for this long.

All the same, he's noticed that he hasn't found anyone else doing what he is. He seems the only one who's been actively seeking the company of others, whose curiosity has led him to stumbling into fantasies upon fantasies, many of which he has no context for.

No one else seems quite as lost as him, but he's not sure if that's even a bad thing, since he'd certainly prefer what he's doing now to isolating himself in some random pocket of space and living out his death days in blinded isolation. "Sounds lonely."

Raising an eyebrow, Garmadon narrows his eyes suspiciously. "You like being around other people, then?"

Morro automatically winces at the notion. "Not really."

"Then, you don't like to be alone _or_ with others? That sounds a sorrowful existence," is all the old man has to say in response. His words sound like they should be rude or offensive, but he says them in such a genuine and sympathetic tone that all Morro can think is how much more he'd prefer it if he'd just been outright insulted. Just who does _he_ , former icon of evil itself, think that he is to pass judgement on Morro? It's not as if their circumstances were the same, but that fact only furthers his frustration.

He shrugs and looks off to the side. "I'd agree if I existed."

"Not the best conversationalist, are you?"

"Seeing you is strange," he finally admits, saying exactly what's been on his mind this entire time. "I wasn't exactly on the best terms with your son."

That seems to give the former dark lord pause, and he's suddenly eyeing Morro up as if he's a new possible threat. Part of him regrets provoking Garmadon like this and he starts to berate himself, because he's not sure how he can be so impulsive and stupid, but then the older man gives his face one look and relaxes his shoulders, exhaling deeply like he's come to the conclusion that Morro's nothing to worry about at all. And the Wind Ninja is right back to despising him.

He's not sure what to make of it all until Garmadon speaks, somehow both wistful and filled with regret. "Well, for a time, neither was I."

Morro automatically winces incredulously. He doesn't like that comparison, not at all. "Forgive me if I think our circumstances are a bit different."

It's clear from the expression Garmadon shoots at him that he's expecting the younger man to elaborate.

Morro pauses and freezes up, wondering to himself if he's really going to admit what he'd done. There's really no tactful way to tell someone, ' _I took over your son's body_ ,' he's starting to realize. No way that isn't going to make an overly protective father go directly for his throat, at least. And he knows enough about Garmadon from the snippets he'd seen within Lloyd's memories to know that the man would do just about anything for his son. He imagines that includes kill. Possibly even if the person in question is already dead.

"I guess it doesn't matter what's happened in the past," he quickly finds a way to change the subject, because that's a conversation he'd rather _not_ have. "Everyone here is too busy living a lie to care about that, anyway."

Despite the fact that Garmadon thankfully doesn't make verbal note of his dodging, the man still manages to find a way to take hold of the conversation all over again. "It's not _all_ a lie," he defies, a knowing smile dusted across his face. "Don't you know that?"

"What do you mean?"

"The visions we see. If you'd like to gaze upon other realms and those within them, all you have to do is close your eyes and wish it. I watch upon my son every day."

At first, he's not even sure he's heard the man correctly, until he starts replaying the words in his head over again. He doesn't even know if he's able to entirely process that. Gaze upon other realms for real?

He's never heard of _that_. No one's bothered to tell him, at least. Or, no one he's met has known about it. He imagines it's most likely the latter.

Still, his disbelief outweighs his reasoning and he stares blankly at Garmadon. "You're joking."

"I've only newly learned of this, but I assure you, it's no joke," he raises a hand out next to himself and gestures for Morro to join him on what's assumed to be the ground. "Come. See for yourself, my boy."

It only takes a few seconds of consideration for him to take a seat and cross his legs on the cold, almost metallic-feeling void beneath them. Morro figures that he's come this far, so backing out now would be disgraceful. That, and he's far too interested in this new information to pass it up. It's just about the most eventful thing to happen to him lately, outside of dying. And he figures that this type of eventfulness might be on the more positive side this time around. He's hopeful, at least.

Then, he imitates the dark lord's instructions, and he closes his eyes.

And he at first sees nothing.

It's frustrating, because he feels like he's _trying_ to see something, and that there's a curtain blocking his way that he just can't reach. It's more than he's noticed before, that's for sure. It tells him that there really might be something to the man's claims.

"Now, don't broaden your mind too wide," Garmadon's voice cuts through his focus, but he keeps his eyes shut. "You can't try to grasp all the world in your hand at once. I, personally, was thinking of how much I wished to see my son when I'd first learned. Who do _you_ wish to see? Focus on them."

He's not sure why it works. Shifting his viewpoint from searching for the bigger picture to honing in on one person puts a low humming and burning in the back of his head, like his brain has transformed into a hot singing bowl. The world around him gets a bit suffocating, his entire self vibrating while at the same time his inner voice - the one that tells him everything he doesn't want to hear - gets its mouth sewn shut. Just like that, the curtain is pulled away.

It's as if he's having an out-of-body experience, or like he's dreaming.

And he sees himself - _not_ himself, just a projection that isn't even really there - standing over a small toddler within a messy apartment that Morro can't for the life of him recognize.

He analyzes the baby carefully.

It's wrapped in a blanket and looking at him as if it can _almost_ see him.

While focusing on who he'd wanted to see, he thought of Wu.

So, why is he seeing this small, fragile creature? There's something in the back of his mind telling him that _this is Wu,_ but he's not sure where that comes from or why he should be listening to it. It can't be. He feels like he should've known if something were to happen, no matter how little sense it makes. Sure, he figures he's missed quite a bit, but he draws a blank as to what could possibly reduce his old master to the state of an _infant_. It seems ridiculous, to say the absolute least.

It's like having a strange sort of filter over his eyes, like he's watching something through artificial lenses that he isn't wearing. "How...can you tell that this is all real?" he asks to no one, because he knows that he's effectively nonexistent where he is right now.

Predictably, Garmadon's voice comes piercing through his vision. "Well, I certainly wouldn't be able to create entirely new people with my mind, now would I?"

And then, through the doorway appears an old woman that Morro doesn't really recognize, as if right on cue with the former dark lord's words. Her unfamiliar presence - greyed hair, glasses, a figure he feels like only part of him vaguely recalls despite him never having seen her before - leaves him unable to get out of the way as she approaches the baby, phasing right through Morro without a second thought. And he's so startled by it that he steps back and feels himself falling right into his body once more.

His eyes shoot open.

To his side, Garmadon gently puts a hand on his shoulder. The touch, however so small, makes Morro flinch. But he doesn't pull away and Garmadon doesn't react to it. "Did you see who you wanted to see?"

He's about to say no, but he's honestly not entirely sure. The question puts his brief vision into perspective. Assuming what he'd seen was the real world makes him feel a lot more worse than the idea of assuming it's just been a figment of his imagination, because he hates the idea of missing out on that much of the world, not knowing what's going on with the living for so long. He's not even sure how much time has actually passed since he was last in what he'd consider the real world.

How long has he been wandering through the Departed Realm? He stands up and immediately feels the full effects of his experience. He's both emotionally and physically drained, and it's like the mist has reached out and surrounded him yet again, like it's pulling him back into the murky sea.

And he doesn't even fight it, feeling his legs pull him forward and away from Garmadon. "Who knows?" he asks quietly, mostly to himself, and doesn't look back. The older man doesn't make a move after him.

Despite learning something new, despite being able to look upon reality, Morro can't help but feel even more empty than before.

* * *

Without meaning to, Morro finds himself within the very caverns that killed him.

The lingering smell of kethanol is ever present. It's not _really_ there, he's aware enough of his surroundings to understand that, but he supposes the scenery and the stench go hand-in-hand. He knows it well. That very chemical is what had overwhelmed his lungs and burned him from the inside out, after all. It's what he can still vividly remember the feeling of, even today. That's not the kind of thing you forget or ever fully recover from. It's just potent enough to send him into what feels like a drunken stupor.

He's not sure why the Departed Realm is trying to uncover his worst memory, or why he's letting it do so. Maybe he's just trying to make himself suffer without knowing it.

He's also not sure why he's been feeling so claustrophobic, lately.

Perhaps it's natural. Here, at least.

He settles next to some pop-rock-corn and leans his head into his hands, collecting himself as best he can. It's not going to do him much good to be wandering around when he has a feeling the scenery around him isn't going to be changing anytime soon. Leaning his back against the stone wall, he sits next to a large rock and lazily puts his arm on it, bringing his hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

It's more annoying than anything else to have to see all of this, to be lying himself back in his early grave, but it doesn't matter too much to whine about it. Not as if it'll change, at this point. The world around him wouldn't be this way if he were able to just will it away. He would if he could.

The thing that gets him the most is the _sound_ , the hollow dripping of nearby water that he remembers too well, a faint hissing from the geysers in the other caverns, steam sifting through the walls all around him.

It's not exactly pleasant.

Then, something he doesn't recognize as normal, something he can't remember ever hearing, creeps up on him. It cuts through the rest of the noise. Though it isn't overpowering, it's off, like it's not supposed to be there. Like some intruder has waltzed right into his vision and intruded on his thoughts, like it exists on another plane entirely. And he's about to believe in that to be the case because he identifies it as footsteps. Footsteps, coming from not too far along the caves.

He wonders if it's going to be someone he's met before recently within the realm, someone whose own fantasies he's walked through, and supposes this is a funny sort of revenge. Even if it may be by complete accidents, as most cases are.

Rounding the corner is Lloyd Garmadon.

That...isn't who Morro's expecting. Not that he's sure who he was expecting, but he knows this doesn't fall under any of the feasible options.

It hits him like a punch in the gut and he feels his breath taken away. His entire body tenses up, lungs and all, and he's not sure what to think as he watches the blonde look around the caves as if they're nothing he's ever seen before. Morro sees the boy grown into a man, maturity and wisdom present there where he doesn't recognize. There's no sense of envy within Morro, not an ounce of contempt as he'd expected when he thought he'd again see the Green Ninja. He's not sure what he feels.

_He knows what he feels._

His insides twist and his body runs cold.

The thoughts run through him like a child's, the idea that he won't be noticed if he just sits still, and he's instinctively hugging his knees a bit closer to his chest than before without realizing it. But he has no such luck. They lock eyes rather quickly - _not much else to look at_ \- and Lloyd's brows shoot up. He looks surprised, but not shocked. Like the possibility of seeing Morro wasn't a likely outcome and yet it was still one he'd perceived. His stance goes ever so slightly on the defense as his wandering comes to an abrupt halt.

He's standing within the corridor and Morro's at a loss for words. Suddenly, everything's dead quiet. Like the humming had just become background noise to the point where the abrupt absence of it makes him feel as though he's gone deaf. He looks to be the first to break the silence, if only for the sake of preserving some sense of dignity. "Didn't expect to see you here," Morro's own voice is a lot crisper now than he ever remembers hearing it before and he wonders if it's because he feels as though he's watching himself from above instead of from his own eyes. He tries to force himself back into his body and turns his heavy torso away. "Thought we were supposed to see things we _want_ to see."

The point of moving was to make it so he can't look directly at Lloyd even if he wants to, but he can still see the Green Ninja in his periphery, gaze so obviously suspect that it cuts into Morro like a sharp, thin knife.

It seems that the more the Green Ninja begins to take in his surroundings, the less he understands. Eventually, face contorted into puzzled frustration, he looks to the man on the ground. "Morro? How...does this make any sense?" he asks in a way that sounds much more like a demand. "How are you here? Where _am_ I?"

There's something dramatically different about Lloyd's voice and Morro realizes just how drastic of a growth spurt the guy must've had within the time they'd not seen each other. That, or Morro's really just lost his mind and has been wandering the Departed Realm for much longer than he'd ever thought.

He may very well have lost his mind regardless of the truth, because he's quick to quell Lloyd's growing panic. It'd be annoying if nothing else were the blonde to become too hostile. "Relax. This is just my imagination. You're in the Departed Realm and I'm...talking to myself."

The last part of his sentence is finished with a sigh, because he's completely forgotten one simple fact up until now.

This _isn't_ Lloyd Garmadon. It's just a manifestation within this small world Morro's mind has recreated as a form of twisted, subconscious masochism. He doesn't want that to be the case, but he can't think of anything else. He's in the Departed Realm, after all, and he can only think of a handful of circumstances that would allow for absolutely anyone from the other realms to pass through. Unless they died. And Morro has a really hard time believing that Lloyd is dead, judging by the way Garmadon had been acting earlier.

So, the only possibility is that he's not real.

And that Morro is just talking to himself.

As if Lloyd's shadow doesn't at all care about the realization that its creator has made, he gives a hard frown and levels his tone. "I don't understand."

"What's there to understand?" Morro asks, feeling himself somehow grow even more irritable. "I don't even know why I'm seeing you. Kind of expect you're here so I can finally apologize to you, but it's not like it'd change anything if I did."

It's almost upsetting how the Green Ninja seems to be taking things less and less seriously as time goes on, like he's becoming convinced that what he's seeing isn't real. Or he's just calming down and rationally taking in his surroundings. Morro decides it doesn't really matter either way. Still, Lloyd starts to take deep breaths and he closes his eyes, crossing his arms in the process. He appears to be deep in thought, possibly going over Morro's words in his head and dissecting them.

Then, once he opens his eyes and looks around with an expression that can only be described as unimpressed, he starts nodding. "I'm dreaming," he nods more to himself, like it makes perfect sense. "Right, again. Haven't done any lucid dreaming in a long time."

Morro doesn't even have he energy to glare. Whatever is happening, it's tiring. "Just disappear already."

"Uh, I'd like to," the Green Ninja says flatly, then blinks and perks his head up to meet Morro's eyes as if he's just realized something. "Wait, what did you say about apologizing?"

The immediate response is for Morro to let out a combination groan and sigh. He openly rolls his eyes and just wishes now more than ever that he could lie down and take a nap. Hell, he'd even do it right here, on the cold dirt floor. He'd do so happily if it meant never having to see the Green Ninja again in his life. He tries not for the first time to force his mind into a blank state so that he can just let the scenery fade away. But unlike the sounds within the false bar or the cold of the icy forest, there's an odd authenticity.

It feels more real, like something he can't just convince himself to stop hearing or feeling or seeing. But it's maddeningly annoying. And so is Lloyd. "I think you can imagine what for," despite his words, Morro manages to make it sound as if he's insulting Lloyd even though he's confessing to his sins. He lists them off in a mockingly casual tone, like he's just remembering them off the top of his head and waving them off. "Possessing your body. Threatening you. Hurting your friends."

 _Invading your entire being_ , he doesn't say. _Infecting your mind like a parasite, like a leech_ , he also doesn't say.

"You're...apologizing? For all of that? Is that what's happening right now?"

It's not exactly surprise that Morro hears in Lloyd's voice. Moreover, it's incredulity. Or even just blank acknowledgement, like he's honestly asking Morro if that's what the man is trying to do. For the sake of not pissing himself off more and not making his headache worse, Morro decides to entertain the latter. "That's what I guess this is all for," he says, gesturing to the shifted world around them. "I'm assuming I created you so I could say it, but I don't see what the point is. Even if you were real, it wouldn't mean anything. It wouldn't _change_ anything."

Lloyd's expression turns suspicious, but he's not nearly as on edge now as he was before. "What do you mean?"

Perhaps it's due to him being in the midst of a circumstance that he'd like some control over, but Morro starts to think that he might be able to take advantage of his unwanted temporary guest. In a sense, at least.

There haven't as of yet been many willing to listen to him - Doctor Julien being the first, if Morro's perfectly honest - and it wouldn't be the first time he's talked aloud to those who don't really exist outside of his own head. "If you're really not going to go away, I guess I'll talk," he begins, form relaxing as he slings an arm over one of his knees. He says the same lines he's spoken time and time again. "I can't just apologize for what I've done. There's nothing I can say or do to make up for any of it. Not to Wu, not to Lloyd. Not to anyone. I hope they never have to see me again."

By now, there's barely any emotion to his voice when he says it, a factual belief he's held for as long as he can remember being consistently confronted by his own overwhelming reflection.

He finds it hard to tell whether he does or doesn't appreciate the fact that Lloyd actively refuses to react to the admission. Instead, the Green Ninja puts a hand to the wall, almost to make sure that it's actually there. "This is the Departed Realm, is it? I'm surprised I haven't dreamed about it before," he sounds more to be talking to himself, up until when he directs his attention to Morro. "It's definitely not the first time I've dreamed about _you_ , though. _This_ just isn't what usually happens when I see you."

The Wind Ninja stares Lloyd down. A rushing breeze floods through the caves, just briefly. "I don't understand what you're saying."

"Nevermind," getting back on track, Lloyd lowers his voice, sounding a bit more introspective and benighted than before. He doesn't look Morro in the eye when he puts a hand to his mouth and speaks. "I never thought you'd have felt sorry for it."

Just then, there's a stabbing that courses through Morro's stomach - _guilt, self-hatred_ \- and his thoughts turn grim at how sudden and harsh it is.

He shrugs and starts playing with the green streak in his hair, twirling it around his index finger and fixating himself onto it, a habit he's tried to fix while in front of others yet one he often does while alone. "Hard to say _sorry's_ the right word. It's not like it takes back the pain I've caused if I _feel sorry_ for it," he explains simply.

It's a conclusion he'd come to a long time ago and one that he's stuck by. He's known ever since he first started to question his own actions and his own motivations that he's been too far gone to beg for anyone's forgiveness, to let anyone try to save or fix him, because he knows that his decisions were his own. No one else is responsible for what he's done, no matter how much he wants to push the blame on others, and no matter how often he's found a way to do exactly that.

He has to deal with dark eternity. No redemption. No relief. No opportunity to make up for what he's done. That's the nature of the Departed Realm. It's where you go when the universe has decided it no longer needs you, when it tells you that your time in reality is up.

It's Lloyd's turn to shrug as he considers those words, seriously considers them. As seriously as a false entity can, anyway.

"I mean, yeah. It kind of...helps, though. Maybe," he speaks as if even he has no idea if he agrees with what he's saying. His eyes go back and forth between Morro and the ground and become more intense as the gears in his head start to turn. "I never did get to tell you just what you did to me."

That's not something Morro's interested in having replayed to him.

He's already intimately aware of the effects he's likely had on the Green Ninja's psyche, whether this version of him is real or not. "Trust me, I'm well aware."

Still, Lloyd seems determined not to let it go. "You might be, but I need to say it. You...for a long time, you ruined - I mean, you ruined _everything_ ," he talks aimlessly and without a care, like he doesn't expect what he's saying to get through to Morro, or to anyone. He finally takes this time to uncross his arms and he stares at his hands. "Because of you, I lost a lot of sleep. Because of you, I felt all paranoid and jumpy, even _way_ after I should've been over it. Having someone else in your mind...it's nothing like what I could've imagined. I couldn't even feel safe in my own head. Do you know what that's like?"

He looks up to Morro, and it's hard to tell if he really expects an answer.

Morro, unsure of what to say or what he's supposed to do, goes with the facts. "You have every right to hate me."

That makes Lloyd blink slowly and puts a sobering expression on his face.

"I don't need your permission for that," is what he responds with, but there's no bite to his voice, just passive hollowness. It's as if he felt as though he just needed to say something rude but doesn't have the heart to put into it. He rubs at his head and actually _pinches_ himself, then goes back to his silent contemplation. Does Morro remember Lloyd being this childish? Does Morro remember much of anything about Lloyd, for that matter?

He decides not to care about all of that. No use in worrying about what he does and doesn't remember. It's not like he has any real sense of how much time has passed, anyway. "Never said you did. This is what I was talking about."

Lloyd starts to nod like he understands, which only pisses Morro off.

"Well, you're right that it doesn't change what happened," the Green Ninja gives a meaningful pause, finally getting to the point that he's been procrastinating. "But I've been hurt much worse by what others have done to me. I mean, in comparison, what you did seems kind of tame."

Morro blinks, dumbfounded. "I'm...is this you trying to insult me?"

"Um, no? Look, I'm just saying that I've forgiven people for a lot worse."

"That doesn't make you obligated to forgive me," he speaks only before remembering what he'd already established earlier. Much of his anger starts to wash away from him and what's left is directed inward. This isn't even _really_ Lloyd. Nothing he says right now even matters. He runs a hand over his face and he directs his piercing gaze to the cave wall. "I'm...talking to a figment of my imagination. Really, I don't know why I can't make you go away. I've quite possibly crossed so far into my own self-hatred that my brain is now somehow torturing itself."

He even sounds dramatic to himself, but Lloyd is the most amused of the two of them by it. The blonde's green eyes are humorless when he asks in a hysterical tone, "What, would me forgiving you be torture?"

The idea is ludicrous, to say the least.

And Morro snorts involuntarily at it. "The worst kind."

That reduces the conversation to nothing and Lloyd's face shifts to an unreadable blank slate.

It's pretty incredible how honest Morro's been able to be with himself. Maybe this is his brain's way of giving him some much-needed therapeutic experience, even if it might not have seemed it at first.

But, then, what follows makes him reconsider that notion.

Just before Lloyd's form disappears, fading out with a spectre-like transparency, he narrows his eyes, a deep resentment evident in them and mixing with something else that Morro can't quite identify. "Then, I guess I forgive you."

Before he can respond, the Green Ninja has vanished.

Morro lets out a heavy breath and closes his eyes. His shoulders untense and he slumps against the cavern wall, letting the words echo and bounce around and ring in his ears, making his head swim. For what feels like the first time in years, he smiles. It's humorless and tight, filled with such contempt and only conveying half of how nauseous he really feels, but it's a smile nonetheless.


	2. Hiraeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (listens to send them off! by bastille on repeat) yea mood

By now, seeing Morro in his dreams has become something of a ritual for Lloyd.

It doesn't happen every night, but it's frequent enough to where he's come to expect it more often than not. He's had dreams - _nightmares_ \- about the Wind user before, but there's something entirely different about these ones. None of the moments disappear from his memory once he wakes, nor does anything exactly out of the ordinary happen in them. It's just Morro in some new setting and all they do is speak. Morro isn't inside his thoughts, isn't at his throat, isn't really doing much of anything to harm Lloyd anymore. Just standing there and being an open ear.

He snorts and wonders if this is his brain's subconscious way of coping - conjuring one of his worst, most damaging enemies and letting them converse normally. But then he curses his brain, because why couldn't it show him visions of his father instead? In terms of those within the Departed Realm, or even just past villains they've all had to face against, he'd much rather be spending quality time with his dad in his sleep than anyone else.

Much less Morro.

But, then he remembers the last time he'd actually seen his dad, and grimaces _. Might want to reconsider._

He tries to lighten his mood by continuing to pry at Morro, something he's been doing a lot of since they've started spending nearly every night together. "How old were you when you died?"

"Fourteen," he says simply.

Lloyd's eyes shoot up and he cocks his head to the side, incredulous. He wasn't expecting that. "Really?"

It's dawned on him before how young Morro looks, but he's never put two and two together until now.

He's already aware that the Wind user had died at a relatively young age, as well as the fact that ghosts can't exactly grow up. But, it's jarring all the same for Lloyd to realize that he's physically matured while the monster who'd possessed his body just a few years prior, how the one who's haunted his worst fears and fueled his paranoia, now looks much like a dejected child. Morro was a lot more intimidating as a ghost. Might've been the transparency or the green tint around him. Lloyd isn't really sure, now that he thinks about it.

Is it even true? Lloyd knows he's just dreaming, but he wonders if there's some sense of reality in what Morro's saying. "You're a lot more powerful than any fourteen-year-old I know," he says, then frowns, because he didn't mean to compliment Morro by saying that.

Morro thankfully doesn't react too much, the majority of his smug attitude lost to tired hesitation. He just looks to the side in consideration and folds his arms in front of him. "I was training from a _very_ young age. I had the time. I'm sure you've improved, by now."

Giving a short shrug, Lloyd thinks about how hard it would be to properly compare himself to Morro. "That's true. I've had a lot better handle on my abilities lately - what they mean, how I can use them to protect myself and others - all of that. I've even been able to put wards in my mind. Y'know, just in case. Can't be too careful," Morro visibly flinches from the implication and Lloyd can't help the wave of cruel satisfaction that runs through him. "Always had a harder time figuring out my powers than others did."

"Well, elements like _fire_ and _ice_ are a lot easier to understand than something as vague as _energy_."

He's not sure how to feel about Morro defending him. "I don't know if it's vague, exactly. Just a lot more broad than I was expecting. I mean, I can literally move mountains."

"And _you're_ the one afraid of _me_?"

"There's a difference between having the potential to do something and already being able to do it," Lloyd hates to think about how immature he was, how unwilling he was to work on his powers without some hefty prompting from...well, _him_ \- the gentle face of his father appears in his mind and he shakes it away - even though he's not sure he's all that much better now. "Might've been able to move mountains, but I still wasn't quite as strong, back then."

It's Morro's turn to frown. "I was mostly joking, but you _do_ constantly look at me like I'm going to attack you. Is the Green Ninja seriously afraid of me?"

At first, Lloyd raises his eyebrows in offended surprise.

He thinks he has every right to be afraid of Morro, no matter how powerful he's grown to be over the years. All he's ever really known to feel about Morro up until very recently has been terror and resentment. You'd be shocked at how easy it is to fear and hate someone after they've invaded your head and used your body against your will, especially when they're targeting your loved ones in the process. He still has memories and delusions about it, even between the dreams he gets where he's able to talk to Morro normally like this, though those are a lot more hazy and they leave radically different impressions.

He remembers one time seeing Morro when he'd the night prior had such an awful nightmare of the guy - _watching through passive eyes as his body cuts down Kai's, his best friend's face going lax and lifeless_ \- and Lloyd couldn't look at Morro without feeling intense disgust.

They didn't say much that night. He never apologized for giving the cold shoulder and doesn't plan to, but Morro doesn't seem like he expects that to happen anyway.

He doesn't even need to say anything for Morro to get an odd sort of defeated look on his face. The Wind Ninja awkwardly rubs at his neck, refusing to meet Lloyd's eyes. "Yeah, alright. I know."

Not too long ago, Lloyd might have just left or refused to speak anymore, but it's not the first time they've openly discussed this sort of thing. "I'm not the same because of you," he states, voice casual and yet heavy at the same time. He's accused Morro of many things, almost all true and justified, things he's never said to anyone else or opened up about before.

And Morro just repeats, "I know."

They fall back into silence.

That's usually how it goes.

He doesn't know when Morro became his outlet, his place to throw all of his baggage onto, but it's been weirdly refreshing. Lloyd's learned to keep it in for so long because he barely has anyone who would be able to understand what he's gone through. _Someone who understands._ It's hard to think that Morro fits that category, but that's the way it's been playing out. Countless times, he's almost unloaded everything onto Kai, but he's always stopped himself because it's supposed to be the other way around. He knows Kai well enough to be aware of how hard the guy tries to shoulder the pain of others without knowing how to deal with it himself. Lloyd knows he has to be strong for the both of them.

If Kai knew about Lloyd's hangups...well, he's not sure what the Fire Ninja would do. Best not to give the guy any more reason to worry his head off. Kai should be growing grey hairs by the time he's thirty with how badly and how frequently he stresses over Lloyd.

At the same time, it's odd to be venting to someone who's at least partially responsible for the issues in question.

He hasn't told his friends and it only becomes harder and harder to do so as each day passes, guilt and shame building in him. What's he supposed to say? _Hey, guys. Got a new therapist. It's the guy who turned me into a puppet and tried to kill all of you, and who ruined my mental state. Hope that's cool._

He's a mess.

* * *

When Morro isn't talking directly to false visions of Lloyd, or talking to X or Garmadon about Lloyd, he's watching Lloyd in the real world.

Maybe he needs to calm down.

Maybe he needs to stop being _obsessed with a child_. Well, a relative child. That subject has been debated within his own mind to little conclusion. Lloyd is probably an actual adult by now, clearly physically older than Morro, but Morro himself has been around for quite some time. He's seen more than he knows a child would. He doesn't feel like he's _that_ much older than when he'd died, but he definitely thinks he should qualify as a fully grown man by this point. It's just that he hasn't exactly kept track of how old he really is. Who knows? Certainly not him. And, who cares? Also not him.

It's just that listening to the whining voice of someone he barely even knew in the first place has become almost a habit, and it's one he hasn't made too much of an effort to break. Morro in fact often finds himself mesmerized when faced with Lloyd's troubles. The Green Ninja surprisingly has a _lot_ to say.

He's gone into detail - _agonizing_ , strenuous detail - about things specific to Morro. Lloyd's explained his fear of the Wind user combined with his confusion regarding his own ability to forgive people. Sometimes, he's even gone as far as elaborating on some of the nightmares he's had, and those are what make Morro wonder just how morbid his imagination can get. There have been times when Lloyd's gone into his gripes with his father or his mother, as well. Some are things that Morro feels he shouldn't know about him.

Sometimes, Lloyd even complains about Wu, and Morro isn't entirely sure of how to deal with that.

It's a lot like they've come at their mutual former master from opposite ends. Morro's had time to let his hatred for Wu fester, to feed it and watch it grow, and he's only very recently started to accept the man's better qualities all over again. He's begun to understand Wu's intentions, to cherish the love that existed between them, to sympathize with the mistakes the old man's made without fully forgiving them. Yet Lloyd seems to be experiencing the reverse. He's instead learned the true nature to an ingrained, false sense of trust that Wu's attempted to instill on him, and yet he's no longer able to do anything about it. Because it's hard to blame a _child_ for it all.

If anyone can understand having hangups about Wu, it's Morro. Still, he's unnerved at the intensity, at how betrayed Lloyd feels, his heart bleeding out in the open. It's like he's constantly on the edge of a breaking point and Morro's not sure what's going to happen when the guy gets that last inevitable push. Something disastrous, obviously. There's just no telling what that all entails.

He likes to use that as an excuse for why he tends to watch the Green Ninja in real life.

Morro spends a lot of his time looking upon the real world, traveling through Ninjago and observing the citizens. It's gotten easier to control it. He's been able to entertain himself with the idea that he's at least watching real events, that he can get caught up with the real world. It's still full of technology that he's only beginning to understand, but there's something fulfilling about making the effort to comprehend the basics.

It's just that he spends a disproportionate amount of time watching the Ninja as opposed to attempting to learn all of the secrets of the world. A waste of his attention, he knows, but he can't bring himself to look away from -

He makes the conscious decision to cut his own thoughts off. Thinking of who he wants to see, he closes his eyes within the darkness of the void.

And he allows his mind to separate from his body.

Despite it getting easier, it's remained rather disorienting to be able to travel throughout Ninjago while knowing full well that he's physically sitting still within the Departed Realm. He feels as though he's moving while also not, like he's everywhere and can see everything even as he's honing in his focus. Thankfully, it doesn't take too long for the world around him to become clearer as he's finally able to take in his surroundings. The still incomplete monastery is a building that Morro's gotten well accustomed to over time and one that gradually materializes in his vision.

As usual, the first face he sees is Lloyd's.

Except, he's more often seen the Green Ninja alone recently, either roaming through the city or training on his own or otherwise keeping to himself. No real current threat means Lloyd doing his best to work himself ragged. Morro would say something if he cared that much. Which, he doesn't. At all.

The point is that, this time, Lloyd isn't alone.

It's only one of the other ninja who's with him this time - the red one, to be exact - and they seem right in the middle of a conversation.

"Dude, you've been out of it a lot longer than I think I realized," his voice pierces through the silence that Morro's been getting used to dealing with on a regular basis as the fire user stares at Lloyd with concern. "What's going on with you?"

Part of Morro feels guilty for so clearly intruding on a personal moment between the two, but he can't bring himself to look away. He reasons that it can't be anything he doesn't already know about, then remembers that - _wait_ \- the Lloyd he's been talking to and listening to vent on and on for what's felt like hours _isn't real_. He tends not to take that into account a lot of the time. That's probably because acknowledging the fact that he's just been talking to a fake apparition and all the while stalking the real version of said phantom makes him feel a little too much like a complete creep.

He'd like to maintain the belief that he's not, in fact, a creep. Just a dead man with not a lot to do, so he passes the time in unorthodox ways.

Excuses, excuses.

That's why he listens intently to Lloyd hesitantly answering the Red Ninja, not because Morro has any sort of real emotional investment in what's happening. It's just something to watch. "Been having a hard time sleeping."

Morro raises an eyebrow, brought out of even his own vehement denial. _That's new._

The fire user must think that way too, since he frowns and questions it, a comforting hand moving to rest on Lloyd's shoulder. "Really? Do you know what's been giving you a hard time?"

It's disgusting the amount of sympathy that fills Morro when he sees Lloyd's pained expression, like the Green Ninja is having a difficult enough time just showing emotion, let alone verbalizing it. His eyes are narrowed and strained and just a bit brighter than normal when he forms his thoughts. "Well...it's not totally true that I haven't been sleeping well. Not usually. I think I sleep alright, it's just the dreams. They're really distracting. They're all I can think about," after giving a deep and exhausted sigh, Lloyd looks to the ground and his voice lowers as he hugs his arms close to his chest. "They're dreams about Morro."

The air goes stale and Morro feels nothing.

"Wait, about _Morro_?"

The dead man runs cold and rigid as his eyes suddenly snap open, and the vision is gone.

It's as if his lungs have turned to stone, unwilling to let him breathe, and like time itself had come to a stop. That insignificant little thing that Morro was beginning to contemplate the very existence of is tangibly missing. The heart that should no longer be beating is drumming so loud in his ears that any possible thoughts are drowned out, though he doesn't think he'd understand his mind at the moment anyway. One last statement runs through his mind in a blank echo, the last thing he'd heard the end of as he was pulled back into his body.

_"I've actually been having a lot of dreams about him, lately."_

He gets up, pacing around the blank void, having already tuned out the window to reality.

With raging alarm bells going off in his head, he waits impatiently for Lloyd to appear, wherever or whenever that may next be.

* * *

Even though he's sure it's been the only thing on his mind, Morro still feels himself jump when the Green Ninja passes by the nearest grey wall.

Fire ignites in his chest as he stands furiously and just intently stares with wide, wild eyes. Though his head's been burning the entire time, it's nothing compared to now, finally having the startled subject of his anger right in front of him. His lips are pulled tight and closed, his hands balled into fists, and he runs through his head what he can say and how he can say it so that it'll convey just how _mad_ he is, but he's not sure a word or tone exists that would do it justice.

All Lloyd can feel when he turns the corner and gets greeted with the same look that's haunted a handful of his worst terrors is angry confusion. He doesn't have the sense to be afraid, because he's gone this long without anything happening to him and he doesn't _need_ this kind of scare right now. "Why do you look so - "

"You're actually here, aren't you?" Morro cuts him off and stands up, much to his dismay, and the way he speaks is almost disbelieving fury. It's not easy understanding what's gotten Morro so offended. "You're here."

Part of Lloyd feels like he should know what Morro's talking about, that there's something big he's missing here, but he has no idea what that could be.

He steps forward and looks around. If this is the Departed Realm, he thinks about whether the scenery has to do with his own state of mind or what he perceives to be Morro's. As it is now, they're standing in a small clearing within a blank maze, one Lloyd somehow knows how to navigate through despite having never seen it before. It makes him feel somewhat claustrophobic, the individual pathways only wide enough to fit one person passing through at a time.

Looking up, he even sees that the ceiling is relatively low, making him feel even more closed-in. "Of course, I'm here. But...I'm dreaming again, right?" he then wonders about the nature of the dream he's in and feels himself start to panic, hoping this doesn't turn out like his other nightmares, and he pulls his head down to look at the man in front of him. "Shit, are you going to kill me?"

He's had visions like that before, but none in this type of setting. None where everything had felt like this, none where he'd been with this version of Morro.

Morro runs a hand through his hair and lets out an irritated sigh. "This must be some kind of sick joke."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're here," he says again, this time louder and more firmly, like that's supposed to explain everything. "I'm not just imagining you. I didn't create you. You're actually here. It's the real you."

Each disconnected statement drives Lloyd further into his own puzzled uncertainty. It isn't the first time the thought that Morro, the one he sees in these types of dreams, is the real thing. But he knows that's ridiculous for a number of reasons, and he knows it's just his paranoia that's speaking to him and making him consider that as a real possibility. Right now, though, he can't think of why his own vision would be showing him something that just flat out doesn't make any sense.

His eyes start shifting around. "You're - wait, hang on," when the realization dawns on Lloyd, he doesn't hesitate to reject it. "You can't be the real Morro. You're not."

Morro only scoffs in response. "That's the same thing I thought about you."

Absolute bafflement turns into annoyance, which further switches to vexing anger. He puts a hand to his head and looks to the ground. "No, but - stop! That doesn't make any sense. You're dead!" he ignores how irritated Morro gets at that because he really just doesn't care. Defaulting to logic is his immediate choice. "You're in the Departed Realm and...and, I mean, maybe that's where this is, but I've never _really_ seen it. It's not like I can just go there in my sleep."

Not seeming to find that at all funny, Morro clenches his fists and yells. "Well, you apparently can!"

The Green Ninja takes a step back, then another, and a few more until he's leaned up against the wall he'd just come around the corner from and he shakily slides down.

Humiliation comes crashing down on him and his face starts to heat up.

Even though it wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen to him by any stretch, Lloyd finds it hard to accept that he's been talking to the real Morro this entire time. It can't be true. His mind has to just be messing with him, for whatever reason it's got. With everything he's _said_? The idea that he's actually, honestly been pouring his heart out to what he'd thought was a figment of his own imagination about his emotional problems but is instead the _real deal_ makes his heart beat faster and he goes light-headed. _It can't be right. It can't be right_. He'll die if that's the case. He'll consider never sleeping again.

He tells himself that he has to calm down.

For the simple reason that he knows his legs won't hold him if he stands, he keeps himself seated, but straightens his back and tries to prevent his voice from breaking. "I don't understand. I've never been here before. Why would I be able to now? How can I know that you're the real Morro?"

All that seems to do is frustrate Morro. "You're really saying you can't tell it's me?" the man asks, almost as if he's offended at the idea. "Fine. Here."

Lloyd isn't sure what he expects after that.

But, out of everything, it's not for Morro to take out a knife.

Instinctively, he shoots up and looks around wildly for an out, not even caring that his head is still spinning. "Woah - hey, okay, what are you doing with that thing?"

The only thing that helps is the fact that Morro doesn't take another step forward before making an effort to explain himself. "Trying to prove a point. Calm down, I've been carrying this around on me the entire time. I'd have used it on you by now if I wanted to. I'm just going to give you a little cut," and though that doesn't calm Lloyd down entirely, he stops himself from bolting for the nearest hall. "A small one. If it's there when you wake, it'll prove this is real. I'm not even sure if it's going to work, but I can't think of anything else that would convince you. Now, give me your hand."

At first, Lloyd is completely against it, but he can't deny that it's a decent idea.

He hesitantly reaches his hand out, palm facing up, and nearly flinches away when Morro takes his wrist. It just then dawns on him the fact that they'd been avoiding any physical contact up until now. It's not like he's been doing it on purpose, they've just never had the need to touch, even for the sake of confirming whether or not each other are corporeal. He'd never thought of it before.

Or, maybe he's just been too afraid to.

He feels the knife slice through his palm and he does flinch, because it hurts a lot more than he'd expected it to. Blood starts to gather on the small slit. It's not very deep, but it's still prominent enough that he knows it'll take at least few days to heal.

That is, if it's still on his hand when he wakes up.

He stares at Morro's retreating form as the man sits and leans his head back against the wall, almost curling in on himself and crossing his arms. Lloyd frowns and pats his hand against his side, hoping to blot away the blood. "So, if this is there in the morning, what do I do?"

"I don't care what you do."

When Morro says that simply and bluntly, he leaves them both in an uncomfortable silence.

It's oddly helpful that Morro is just as distressed and upset as Lloyd by the fact that they were both mistaken about each other. The situation isn't any less incriminating, though. He'd still rather open up a hole in the ground and take up residence there for the rest of his life, then try to find the secret to eternal youth so that he'll never have to die and fully reach the Departed Realm and have even the slightest chance of running into Morro again. That is, if what Morro is saying holds any water.

He doesn't even think to ask where he'd gotten the idea in the first place, taken out of himself from their surroundings. "Hey," he starts, eyes adjusting. "Just what is this place?"

"You know already. The Departed Realm."

"I'm talking about this cave. It's...I don't think this is the first time I've seen it. Even before the first time we talked, too."

The maze is gone.

It's gone before he thinks he'd realized it. The world around him no longer feels desolate and cold and metallic, but instead suffocating and hot. He's not sure which is worse. The rock formations around him and the open space gives them a little more room to stay away from each other, but he doesn't feel like there's much more space now than there was before. There's an odd smell that he can only describe as dead in one way or another.

Slowly, Morro raises his head and peaks through strands of black hair, his eyes meeting Lloyd's. "You really want to know?"

"Well, yeah. I think so," the blonde replies, feeling sure but unable to convey that through his tone.

"This is where I died."

 _Oh_ , is what Lloyd thinks, his mind coming to a screeching halt.

"Oh," is what he also says out loud. "I'm sorry, I didn't - "

But, Morro stops him before he can get anything out, even though he's not exact sure of what he was going to say. "Don't apologize. Just don't."

It's hard to think of what to say to that. The knowledge that Morro died has never been connected to a place or a time, but now he has both. He can't deny that he wants to learn more, now that he's been given these small tidbits of information over time.

So, he decides to test his luck. "How did you die?" he then stops himself, feeling slightly bad about how blatant that is, and lowers his voice. "You...you don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

That seems to take Morro off-guard.

He takes a moment to look down one of the dark pathways, considering whether to go into it or not. "Kethanol," is what he eventually replies with simply. He directs his line of sight to what appears to be a sunken-in hole, just a few feet away from the both of them. It's not making noise or doing much of anything, but Lloyd can assume what it's supposed to be. "Guess you could say I was poisoned, but it's more like I suffocated. Got trapped in one of the caverns. This one, to be exact. Just my luck it happened to have one of those geysers in it. Filled the room with the stuff and I just about couldn't breathe at all. Didn't take too long for me to pass out. Don't remember anything after that. Wasn't much after."

Suddenly, things start to make sense in Lloyd's mind, and he's unfortunately finding more and more reasons for why this might all really be happening. "I'm..." he starts, then tries again, collecting himself. "I don't think I've ever actually been here, so I'm not surprised you didn't think I was real, at first."

"The fact that you appeared over and over despite me not wanting to see you probably should've tipped me off."

Lloyd snorts at that.

"You're still talking to me, though."

Rolling his eyes, Morro gives an exaggerated shrug and glares at the Green Ninja. "Not like I have many others to talk to," but he stops himself and his face softens, like he's just remembered something. "There _are_ others, but I can't exactly let any one of them get to know me except...well, someone who's arguably done just as bad as me. Plus, you're not the only one who hates me."

All Lloyd can do is stare tiredly, because he's really not so used to feeling this extreme kind of pity for someone who's done as much harm to him as Morro has. It makes him want to deny it, to say that he's wrong and that Morro could be accepted if he'd just try to open up, that Lloyd doesn't hate him, even though he knows that's a lie.

He's said without regret in the past that he hates Morro, both in his head and out loud, but hearing it come from Morro's mouth like a fact he's certain of has made Lloyd rethink. There's something off now, a sorrow that's only just dawning on him as he realizes just how thoroughly convinced Morro is that he's beyond redemption, that no one would or should forgive him for what he's done. He thinks there've been people in his life who've done much worse than Morro, which just makes it all the more exasperating.

One thing about what Morro's said stands out to him, though. "Who are they?" he asks, then gets a bit more specific. "The person who's gotten to know you."

 _Fondness_ , Lloyd recognizes immediately, makes its way into Morro's eyes. It's almost foreign to see.

It's gone from his face pretty quickly, but he's no longer looking as tense as before. "She's a menace, but she sticks around anyway. You've got a lot in common with her, actually. More than you'd know. Met her after I accidentally fell off a cliff - wasn't too fun. Made up some...jungle, I think, while wandering," it's not exactly like he seems to be having trouble remembering, but more like he's just not sure how to parse what he'd seen. "It was like a maze."

That definitely rings a bell for Lloyd.

He crosses his arms and looks directly at the man with a bit of surprise. "That sounds a lot like Hiroshi's Labyrinth. You've been there before?"

"I haven't," but then, Morro points out, "You have."

Lloyd feels his surprise turn to suspicion.

Of course, Morro isn't wrong. Lloyd remembers traveling through the forest, the beauty he'd seen, the dangers he'd faced, and being alone with his father along the way. There's a pain in his chest at the thought. Mostly, it makes him nostalgic. But nostalgia isn't always the most enjoyable thing, especially when it comes to Lloyd's own past. It's probably the longest amount of time he'd been able to spend alone with his dad, which is both a good and bad thing when he looks back.

Instead of focusing on that, he resolves to questioning Morro. Because even though it's true, he has no idea how anyone like Morro would have that sort of information. "How do you know that?"

Hearing that makes Morro take on a face as if he's just been caught doing something awful.

_That's not good._

But he doesn't expect it to be as bad as what Morro actually says. "I saw it in your memories."

This starts an immediate downward spiral "You've - you've been through my memories?" he asks in disbelief, his shoulders hiking up. "What?"

"I'd never really meant to - "

He can feel the anger bubbling in him too fast to appreciate the genuine remorse on Morro's face, or to even acknowledge it. "Save it! Just what else have you seen?" he asks, and he's glad he sounds much more furious and confident than he feels, because his sheer embarrassment has just skyrocketed. As if it wasn't bad enough already. He wonders if he should just will himself awake now, but what about the next time he has a dream like this? What about the time after? Is he really going to have to face Morro over and over again after _this_?

It's at this point that Morro stands up, looking just as furious as Lloyd feels. "Look, I wasn't even _trying_ to see any of it!"

"Right, yeah, because I _totally_ believe you."

"You really think I'm lying?"

"Like it'd be that shocking!"

The very notion seems insulting to Morro, who gets a malicious glint in his eye. "I'm not lying. What would I gain from lying? If you're really that curious, fine!" dread fills Lloyd before Morro even continues. "I saw some of your shitty childhood. I saw you crying like a baby after your mom wouldn't respond to the letters you tried sending her. I saw your thoughts while I was possessing you, when you were thinking about how hurting your friends made you want to die. I saw when you cried your eyes out over your robot friend dying and then just turned around and told your friends to suck it up like the little hypocrite you are! I also saw a shadow of your father beat the Hell out of you. You want me to go on? Because I definitely - "

"Shut up!" Lloyd screams at him, squeezing his eyes shut as he clutches both sides of his head like he'll be able to shut out Morro entirely. "Shut up, shut up, _shut up_! You're a sick freak!"

His accusation echoes across the cave.

"Oh, yeah? Wh - What are you going to do about it?"

The stutter, however small, makes Lloyd's face fall and he looks back up.

It's then that he notices the faint glowing, a golden tint coming from his hands, something he hadn't even realized he was doing. It disappears right once he realizes he's doing it, but it still makes him more than distraught. His abilities have often activated in the past through his heightened emotions, but he's normally aware of it as it happens. He looks forward at Morro and sees regret and latent fear reflected back at him and his anger suddenly vanishes, making him let out a hissing breath through his clenched teeth as his shoulders relax.

 _Christ_. Morro sure is lucky that Lloyd is so damn empathetic.

Or, maybe it's just that Morro is lucky for having chosen Lloyd of all people to possess. He thinks about what would have happened if it were Kai or Cole or anyone else instead and thinks that Morro wouldn't have lasted nearly as long.

He doesn't know what he's done to be exposed to this side of Morro so often. It's like the guy's got a pitch black mural painted all over himself and Lloyd is the only one who can see it cracking, the sickening light shining through.

Suddenly, Lloyd is completely drained. He just feels tired. Ironic, considering he's actually asleep.

He gives a heavy sigh in the dead silence of the caverns and raises the hand with the cut. "Listen, if this is still here when I wake up, I'm going to try to figure something out," his voice feels heavy and drowsy when he finally talks, unable to look the wind user in the eye. "Be here when I come back."

He doesn't wait to hear Morro's response.

"...As if I have anywhere to go."

* * *

Lloyd thinks that he should be leaning on Kai more, honestly.

Maybe Kai isn't the most rational, or the one to go to if you want to make good decisions or to come up with a working battle plan, but talking to him is a lot more validating than Lloyd thinks he's ever realized. It's the fact that the Fire Ninja is someone whose actions are more or less dictated by his emotions that makes him so appealing in a sense. To Lloyd, the idea of taking action in his more vulnerable moments is always tempting, but he's more often than not been able to ground himself before it's come to that.

So, he goes to Kai when appropriate, when he needs to. And that's normally when he just wants someone to listen. Kai's good at listening. He's also shockingly good at giving advice when it's not him who's the wreck.

It's why he's the first person that Lloyd's decided to spill everything to.

Of course, Kai's known for a bit about the dreams Lloyd's been having about Morro. They're too recurring and too prominent for him to not reach out, to find someone who'd listen. They'd completely consume his thoughts if there wasn't anyone else who understood the constant phenomenon.

And the first thing that Kai asks when he finds out about Lloyd's most recent meeting with the aforementioned Wind Ninja is, "What do you think Wu would tell you to do?"

But, that's not really what Lloyd wants to hear right now.

"I don't know what he'd say," he responds, trying not to sound as frustrated as he is at hearing that. "Right now, I don't care. All I know is that I'll never be able to figure this out if I just ignore it," and he makes it clear that he doesn't want to go any further on what Wu might say or think or do, because Wu isn't _here_ anymore and technically won't ever be again, and that's something he's been trying to cope with for some time. The fact that there's so much left unresolved, the fact that Lloyd will never get answers to the questions he's never had the chance to ask.

Kai immediately notices that it's a sore subject. He's oddly in-tune with other people when he wants to be.

Running a hand through his hair, he averts his eyes and takes a seat in the corner of the monastery, gesturing for Lloyd to join him. "Sorry. What do _you_ think you should do?"

There's a bit of hesitation before Lloyd goes to sit down next to Kai, contemplating his options. Even as leader, he's almost always felt like he's had to rely on other people, with the stipulation that he'll someday have to make his own decisions without anyone to guide him in the right direction. Fate seems to be pushing that day ever closer with how often he's been put into compromising and stressful positions. The only problem is that he's not entirely sure if he's ready for that responsibility, even though he knows he should be.

He might not know what's right, but he knows what _feels_ right.

"...I want to try contacting Morro while I'm still conscious," he says with certainty and steels himself. "If I can do it in my sleep, there has to be some kind of trick to doing it at will."

He can see Kai raise his eyebrows incredulously. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"I know - it sounds crazy."

"Not crazy," Kai corrects, crossing his arms with a frown. He looks to the floor and stares hard in concentration, like he's not sure how exactly to explain it. "Dangerous. It sounds dangerous. I mean, we know what Morro's capable of, and not just because of what he did to you. I just don't want anything bad to happen to you, or to happen to anyone else here. I'm more concerned about Wu out of all of us. We've all had way too many near misses lately and I can only imagine how long it'll take for one of those to finally hit."

Lloyd nods, completely understanding where Kai's coming from. "I know you're worried, but I feel like I have to make this decision," he explains carefully. "And, I don't think he's interested in hurting us anymore. Wu, least of all. This is also sort of _because_ of what he did to me. I can't explain it. I just feel like I'll never be able to...get _closure_ unless I try to figure this out now. You trust my judgement, don't you?"

It's sort of a trap of a question, but Kai doesn't hesitate to fall for it.

He groans in what sounds like defeat and shrugs, then takes on a determined expression. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. Tell me what I can do to help."

Smiling slightly, Lloyd feels as though there's been a weight lifted from his shoulders.

"Just be by my side. Be there to keep me safe if something _does_ go wrong. That's all I need."

Kai averts his eyes, huffing, but nodding all the same like he's trying to psych himself up to it. "Alright," he responds and puts a hand on Lloyd's shoulder, locking their eyes. "Promise me that you know what you're doing."

Trying his absolute hardest not to look away, Lloyd steels himself.

"I...I promise," he replies as he averts his gaze, running a thumb over the cut on his palm.

* * *

Morro has to hand it to X - her ability to sift through one's head and mend the mist for others makes him wonder if she acts as a Mind user in this realm exclusively.

Knowing that she's the Master of Water gives him a bit of insight. The mist around them is _technically_ water, if in the loosest sense. It shifts and forms to create the visions everyone wills it to see. But, when X uses it, it's like what's created from it is a lot more tangible, more real. He's not entirely sure how that works. Maybe he's just imagining it. Then again, what isn't he imagining when he comes to the Departed Realm?

The imaginary is all anyone has.

That's what he'd thought, anyway. He almost wishes that were true. Considering his current circumstances, that is.

The world around him is even more brumous than normal, clouding his vision and sticking in his mind even when he closes his eyes. He still sees grey instead of black. Like the particles have invaded past his eyelids and imprinted themselves forever. He's sitting cross-legged and focusing on nothing, making sure his memories don't wander and do what he absolutely _does not_ want them to. The world around him could shift at any moment, entirely without his conscious consent. It definitely wouldn't be the first time it's done that. It's like every day that passes - _day_ , that's a joke - just serves to prove how unstable he's becoming.

It frightens him, how little control he has.

He guesses that's part of why he's doing this.

X's footsteps make a _clack_ across the nothingness, even though he doesn't see her, even though there's nothing beneath them to make an impact.

Just behind him, she stands, and he hears her voice carry across the void. "Now, since I'll be digging through your mind and searching for any ' _outliers_ ', you're going to have to lay all of your thoughts bare to me," she says, and though he can't see her, he knows she's making air quotes at the word. It's clear she doesn't actually understand what he'd meant when he said that and he supposes he should at least be grateful that she hasn't pried more into it.

It's not exactly in her nature to do something like this.

Well, _it is_ , just not for this purpose. Picking through someone's mind is what she does for a living, but it's normally for the sake of helping those who've passed find their ideal paradise. She wanders around and instead of living her own afterlife she chooses to help others live theirs. And she doesn't even seem to have an issue with it. It's not an obligation, nor something she treats as a job. It's just what she does.

X is a good person. _Nya_ is a good person.

That's what an idiot would think, anyway.

If one could glare with their eyes closed, he supposes that's what he'd be doing right now. "I know. You've explained at least twice already. Are we gonna get this started, or what?"

Some of his irritation comes from the fact that he doesn't know what he's expecting they'll find. He's not actually sure how this is going to go. Concerns crawl inside his gut like worms, confidence infested with doubt, and the uncertainty kills him in the sense that it makes him both want to back out and to see it through as quickly as possible at the same time.

"If you insist," she relents, then takes a moment of silence to focus. It's only once Morro is about to question her that she speaks up again. "Is this the vision you seek?"

The first figure that appears is that of Wu.

Except, he notices something's wrong, even before the figure warps and shifts. It begins as his master - back when he was much younger - back when he'd first taken in Morro.

Morro swallows and it makes a dry clicking noise, and he doesn't remember the last time he'd felt his blood boil so quickly. It probably also had something to do with Wu. Probably felt exactly like this back then, too. It's a fatigued fury, anger and exhaustion mixed. He wants to feel hatred and instead feels his rage misaimed, empty, devoid of purpose. The hole inside of his chest increases as the image of his former master begins aging, taking him through periods of his life in which Morro never even got the chance to authentically witness.

"He's just from my memory, isn't he?"

"Isn't he?" he's about to call her out on how vague that is when the figure in front of him contorts further. "What about now?"

He sucks in a sharp breath.

It's like the form has shrunk and he stares blankly at a somewhat familiar face once it comes into focus for him. One of a toddler wrapped in a ragged blanket, staring at him with inquisitive and still eyes.

Back when he'd first searched for Wu, he'd seen the same child.

The realization dawns on him fairly quickly.

Briefly shaking his head, he tightens his lips into a frown. "So," he starts, a bad taste in his mouth. Really, he's not sure why there's an empty bubble in his chest when he sees the baby or what it's even supposed to mean. "That really _is_ Wu, huh? Well, it's not like that'll tell me much of anything. I already saw him when I first looked into the real world, so it's natural that he'd be in my memories."

Not that he wants him to be.

Morro doesn't hold grudges against literal infants. That should probably be a rule, or something. More like common sense. He might feel that Wu's hurt him far more than can ever be made up for, but it's not a problem for a child to have to take on the responsibility of fixing. Whoever this kid is, whether he's got Wu's memories or not, he's an entirely different person and Morro doesn't have the right to be tacking on Wu's actions to someone who for all intents and purposes had no real say in what happened.

She seems to recognize his decreasing patience and quickly changes her tune. "Fair enough," her responses are curt and simple and it's the one thing he can say without hesitation that he appreciates about her. "Is this the vision you seek?"

The green gi is the first thing that registers in Morro's mind and he's already internally groaning without having to look at the vision's face.

Of course Lloyd Garmadon would appear, because why wouldn't he?

Why wouldn't the second largest testament to how pathetic Morro's become be what appears second?

His eyes scan the ninja, stopping at the green, lifeless gaze. He thinks he can look at their little moments together somewhat more rationally, now that he's sure it's more than something that's just been happening inside of his own head. The him of the past wouldn't have stood for it - would have turned even the image of Lloyd Garmadon away in a heartbeat - and yet the him of today allowed the man to use him as a sort of venting device without so much as a weak complaint until he'd figured out the truth of the situation. And even then - _even then_ -

He knows it's because of his desire.

It's more than a desire. A need, even. A need to connect with others that he's still working through and that he still doesn't fully comprehend.

Once you realize that everyone wants to connect with people one way or another, whether the methods they use are conventional or even whether they work, illogical actions start to make a lot more sense. It's why he's ignored the news feeds and the unknown terrain of the lands he'd never gotten the opportunity to visit, gone out of his way to put the world's ever-changing cultures and history out of his mind in favor of spying on people who've long since moved on from him. He's no longer part of their lives, yet here he is, desperately trying to make them part of his even when he knows it doesn't make any difference to anyone else.

That need to connect manifests as obsession. A scratching in the back of his mind, a primal urge to both understand others and be understood that's been growing and growing for as long as he can remember allowing it that comes out as him wandering into the fantasies of the dead and more or less stalking the man he's somehow affected so heavily despite never knowing much about. Might just be because Morro's never felt like he wanted to get to know people or for people to get to know him. He's always known what it's like to be alone, but he's only recently figured out what it's like to be _lonely_.

He could blame Wu.

He _always_ blames Wu.

It goes deeper than that, though, he's sure. Something of a snowball-effect that's shaped Morro into the worst version of himself that he could've been. Destiny's pushed him in that direction and he knows it. He's known it since the moment he was told he was never supposed to be the Green Ninja, and he still tried to argue with that destiny until his dying breath.

The itch in his brain is back.

Destiny?

Fuck destiny.

There's nothing about destiny that he wants anything to do with. Not anymore. He'd tried so hard to appeal to this unseen force like it means anything, like it hasn't been rigged against him from the very beginning, and he doesn't care to try and get its false approval. He's already dead. How much worse can it treat him, now? Maybe it's got more in store for him, but he's not interested in learning what that could be. If destiny wants his forgiveness, it's going to have to get on its knees and beg. Fuck destiny.

"I see the Green Ninja all the time. Don't need to see any more of him. _Next_ , please."

He's thankful that she doesn't question him about it, though he feels her hesitation. Lloyd definitely belongs in his memories. He's the reason why Morro's doing this in the first place.

Something about X's voice makes it sound as if she's feeling his aforementioned impatience and empathizing with it. "Well, what about this one?"

Honestly, he's not sure who might appear next.

There aren't a lot of people in his life who take precedence in his memory, after all. The Red Ninja, maybe. Morro's had time to watch over the guy, to see his own old bad habits reflected back at him. They're a lot more similar than he's ever wanted to admit, he's gradually been coming to realize. Or it might be the other version of Nya - the one he isn't acquainted with - looking healthy and stable and going about her day in a world that she didn't even know left part of her behind. Lloyd's mother, possibly? But Morro's seen her before. Even if she shouldn't exist in his mind, she technically belongs in his memories.

The answer is none of the above.

It's a girl. A woman. Someone young and bleached and beautiful, someone Morro's never seen before in his life, someone whose presence stabs him in the gut with something undefined.

Her face is painted a brilliant white and her eyes hold the judgement of Death.

_Who is she?_

Her silence is different from everyone else's. She's not a blank slate, staring into nothingness. It's like she's keeping her mouth shut on purpose as she eyes him, hands folded behind her back and postured straightened to an uncomfortably poised stance. There's an artificial glorious nature to her allure, a natural attractiveness that's been warped and manipulated to erase any flaws. It leaves her looking unreal. Untouchable. And he's not sure _why_ his stomach is churning or _why_ his brain feels like it's being twisted and doused in gasoline as if the woman in front of him is a threatening flame

Mouth hanging open, he's breathless as he asks, "Harumi?"

He decides he doesn't want to see her anymore and tugs mentally. The hold on his mind is let go of and like she was never even there in the first place, the white-haired woman has vanished from sight.

X gives him a second to collect himself as he continues to sit cross-legged and stares at the ground, breathing heavily.

She moves herself to his side and he can finally see her in his periphery. "Who is she, Morro?"

He swallows and squeezes his eyes shut.

"...I don't know."

"What?" looking at him like he's just lost his mind - _can't lose what you never had_ \- and shaking her head, she frowns in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I've never seen her before in my life. I don't even know why that name came up," he responds and runs a hand through his hair. His words come out rushed and blunt and he wonders if finding what he's been looking for is even worth what he's just gone through. He's rarely ever reacted to people he _knew_ with such a mix of fear and disgust and unease, let alone someone he knows he shouldn't have met. It makes no sense why he'd feel anything at all, why she'd be there, why he doesn't want to see her again for all the wrong reasons.

Something about the way X has a hand to her mouth and stares into nothingness like she's trying to figure out how to solve a complicated puzzle brings him down from his temporary high. "But, I'm pulling from _your_ memories," she reasons out loud, and he doesn't argue against it. The fact that it doesn't make sense is at least apparent to the both of them. "Is this what you meant by looking for an outlier?"

Suddenly, the words he'd once heard Garmadon say come echoing back to him.

_I certainly wouldn't be able to create entirely new people with my mind, now would I?_

He stands up, startling the woman beside him. "X, I think I'm done here."

A hand reaches out to grab his arm before he even has a chance to move. He looks down at her and continues to stare as she stands to meet him at eye-level. Part of him wants to pull away and run, but something about the small amount of contact keeps him rooted in place. He doesn't even think of her that way. Can't, more like. Maybe he's just that touch-starved. Lonely and just desperate enough for a connection that he'll stay even when he doesn't want to. That's his life now, it seems.

The concern in her voice makes it all worse, a tone he knows she isn't faking even though she should be. They're not supposed to care about each other, but it's like they have to out of obligation, just because they know each other and are unwanted enough to hang onto one another. "You sure?" she asks. "You don't look well, Morro."

It's such a joke, and he laughs like it's a joke, even though she takes offense to it. "You going soft on me?"

"Really don't think pointing out the obvious means I'm going soft."

"You're worried, though."

It's her who pulls away, scoffing and ripping her hand from him, and he almost regrets making the comment. "About _you_? Yeah, right."

Some part of him is glad that she's the one who's walking away and not him, leaving him empty in the void and allowing the mist to once again surround him to a suffocating degree. He wishes he could will it away the same way Garmadon is obviously able to, but he's got no idea of how to manage that. He lets it stick to his clothing and feels the humid air around him become all too real, though he's sure it's all just in his imagination.

"Sorry," he says to no one. And he doesn't mean it.

That woman - _Harumi_ is the name that pops up without context - sticks out in his mind.

He's not sure what could possibly be causing the pit that's forming in his stomach at the very thought of her.

* * *

The next time Morro sees Lloyd, he isn't expecting it.

He'd certainly thought he would be hearing from the Green Ninja at some point in the near future, but he feels like so little time has passed since they'd last spoken that the sudden reappearance comes as quite the surprise.

He thinks he's more annoyed than anything else.

Their last conversation wasn't exactly the most pleasant one to look back on, a mess of emotionality between two people who despite spending an inordinate amount of recent time together still don't really know each other. They're strangers who know _about_ one another, yet they nonetheless remain strangers. Even the relative openness between them has only just started to feel real, though they've been acting upon it for so long that it's both natural and new at the same time.

"Thought you were planning something," he speaks up before Lloyd even has the chance to open his mouth.

It's the first time that the world around them hasn't shifted or twisted to create a false setting for them. Perhaps Morro had taken it for granted, staring into the black void that continues to surround the two of them. Not having anything to focus on but the man in front of him is making it hard for him to look as disinterested as he'd like to.

Lloyd, on the other hand, doesn't seem to care at all about that. "I am. I just wanted to talk to you, first."

"Who's Harumi?"

The silence that ensues is deafening.

Morro's not sure why the question pops into his head, nor why he immediately voices it. Maybe because it's been plaguing his mind ever since he'd seen her, ever since he'd become acquainted with the name.

He doesn't know what to think when Lloyd gets a deer-in-headlights look and the color drains from his face.

Lloyd's so clearly and so openly offended, hurt, betrayed - he doesn't even try to hide how distraught the question makes him feel on impact. "What? How do you know her?"

The dread he'd first felt when he saw the woman starts making some amount of sense, seeing how badly the Green Ninja's reacting to the simple mention of her name. She must have done something fairly awful. The Ninja themselves have more than enough enemies, so he certainly wouldn't be surprised if whoever the woman by the name of Harumi is turns out in that same category. It's just the nature of the reaction that sparks something like concern within Morro.

He shrugs dejectedly and tightens his crossed arms. "I don't. That's the problem," he explains, not wanting to go into _too_ much detail. "I'm afraid we may still be connected, because I got visions of her when - when my _friend_ attempted to pry into my head. You obviously know her, though."

That somewhat makes Lloyd calm down, though only marginally.

"I guess," then, he levels a deadpan stare at Morro. "You have friends?"

Morro stares blankly.

He rolls his eyes, deciding that the Green Ninja must be perfectly fine and that there's no reason for him to worry. Not that he would have in the first place. He lets out a huff an pinches the bridge of his nose. "Should've killed you when I had the chance," he lets out under his breath, ignoring the snort that comes from Lloyd in response and resolving to narrow his eyes to get back on track. "Just tell me who she is."

There's an exasperated pause, followed by a sigh.

As if considering whether or not to go into it, Lloyd gives a shrug and averts his eyes. "She is - _was_ \- the leader of a group who worshiped my father. My father as Lord Garmadon, that is," it's clear that it isn't a nice memory to recount, judging by the pained expression on Lloyd's face. "She brought him back."

Blinking in confusion, Morro thinks back on his recent conversations with Garmadon and wonders if the man had mentioned anything like that. Then again, he figures it may not be something he'd have wanted to bring up.

"I'm assuming it wasn't the most heartfelt reunion."

"I don't know why she had to go that far," Lloyd says, still refusing to look at Morro, appearing and sounding much like he's talking to himself instead. "She didn't just betray me, she - _ugh_ \- "

Cutting himself off, Lloyd covers his face with his hands and rubs at his eyes, like he can somehow physically scrub away the incident.

It's obvious that he doesn't want to go into the details, though part of Morro tells him that he doesn't care too much about them. More than that, he feels the need to know where she is _now_. Whether or not she continues to be a threat, that is. She definitely seems a formidable enemy from the way that she's thus far been described and from how he tends to feel whenever he tries too hard to think about her. "What happened to her?"

Lloyd shifts his eyes and locks their gazes.

"Why did you want to know about her? Curiosity?"

"That, mostly. Wanted to know what she'd done to make that sort of lasting impression on you, to the point where she'd bleed into my own memories."

The huff of laughter that Lloyd lets out is mocking and not at all humorous. "A lasting impression? That's a way to put it," he starts, and Morro can't imagine what Harumi could've done for that to be considered such an understatement. Self-hatred - something usually unfamiliar coming from Lloyd - shows blatantly in the far off tone the Green Ninja suddenly adopts. "She turned out the way she did because of us, the Ninja. Because of _me_. Because I couldn't save Ninjago and save her parents. And she tried to deal her pain onto me. I guess she succeeded."

Morro shakes his head and his shoulders hike up. "That's a bad excuse. Not everything in this whole awful world is your fault or your responsibility to fix."

He's wincing with regret at his words even before they're out of his mouth.

Validating Lloyd, comforting him, always comes with an air of tense awkwardness. It's not the first time he's done it, but it's practically always on accident. Because he really shouldn't. He shouldn't be providing emotional support for someone like Lloyd. How messed up would it be if they could actually confide in each other? He's resolved to calling their mutual relationship something of two one-way streets. They talk at one another for their own self-gain, not for the sake of actually helping each other.

Part of him is grateful that Lloyd purposefully lets it go unnoticed. The rest of him is tinged with dismay, though he ignores that.

"...All I came here to do was give you a heads-up."

Suddenly feeling suspicion creep in his mind, Morro raises an eyebrow. "About what, exactly?"

As if confused about his own words, the Green Ninja gives a non-committal shrug. Which, Morro has to say, doesn't exactly inspire confidence in him. He won't say that he's been living an uneventful afterlife, but he'd like to know if something about his world is going to change at the hands of someone who's clearly able to do much more than even he's aware of. Lloyd not looking as if he's sure about whatever it is he's talking about puts a deep pit in Morro's stomach.

Lloyd stares at him apologetically, then rubs the back of his neck and looks down. "I won't pretend I know what I'm doing, or that I can guarantee it'll do anything," he says honestly. Though, if Morro's being honest, he's not exactly certain he likes that honesty at the moment. "If it works, you'll find out. I'll tell you when I see you again."

He wants to reply, wants to push the subject, but Lloyd's already disappeared before he can make a move to do anything.

"Hey!" he exclaims to the now empty space, venting his anger at Lloyd's vagueness out onto nothing. "You can't just - "

He cuts himself off when a sharp pain strikes his brain.

A hand reaches up to grab at his head and he feels himself shakily fall to his knees. Somewhere in the background is a woman's voice - _X, he can't remember when she got there_ \- asking him what's wrong in a panicked voice and rushing over to him, but he doesn't fully register her enough to question how long she's been watching him or to get angry at her over it. It's much like he's being pulled, being ripped from his own mind by a force greater than his own, and it _hurts_.

The world around him darkens at the edges.

Then, his body goes limp.

* * *

Kai really isn't the type of guy to say _I told you so_.

That's a lie.

He's totally that type of guy.

It's just that now doesn't seem like the most appropriate time for that.

Their new monastery's basement is a far cry from what'd _actually_ be considered a basement. He'd only technically call it that because it's what Nya's been wanting to turn the empty space into since they all began building. She's explained that it's for storage purposes, but Kai knows his sister better than that and assumes it's really only to serve as a space for her to get away from everyone. She certainly tends to like her privacy. Not that Kai can say he's much different, but that's besides the point.

What _is_ the point has to do with why he's even here in the first place.

It's stuffy and sort of cramped, now that he really takes notice of it. There are boxes of their various thus unused belongings collecting dust and one of the walls is covered in tattered cloth, while a lengthy mirror sits undisturbed next to the door. It's hard to tell what the plans are for this room in terms of its design, but Kai decides he'll leave it to his sister to figure out.

On one hand, he's happy that Lloyd's trusted him this much with something so important, that he was the one Lloyd decided to go to out of everyone. But, on the other, the part of Kai that wants to feel some semblance of pride is massively overshadowed by his immense concern.

Because Lloyd having recurring dreams about Morro isn't something that Kai would have thought to happen.

Kai's gone quite some time not thinking about Morro and, quite frankly, would have loved to keep it that way.

There were a few things he'd been expecting, once he got the rundown of what exactly Lloyd had been planning to do.

Lloyd's always had a certain curiosity about him. It's both a blessing and a curse. On top of being the leader, it means he puts himself in danger before anyone else, which works alongside his inherent selflessness. It also means he can be a bit reckless. That's something Kai understands intimately, but where his own recklessness causes himself and everyone around him trouble, Lloyd's generally stays at a personal, almost self-destructive level. That's why Kai tries to keep his concerns rational.

From what Lloyd's described about his intentions, Kai expects that he might be sitting in silence while his friend is off, literally, in another plane of existence.

Another possible expectation is that he'll even get to see Morro, some way or another. It's not something he wants, but he's resolved to preparing himself for it in the event that it happens.

He _doesn't_ expect Lloyd to double over and clutch at his head in pain.

It's not like he's been keeping the time, but it can't be more than five minutes before Kai hears panicked, labored breaths coming from Lloyd's hunched body. He rushes himself forward, but stalls himself, unsure if touching Lloyd right now is the best idea. A quick look at the Green Ninja's face shows that he's still got his eyes shut tight. It's almost as if he's having a nightmare that he's physically unable to wake up from.

Reaching a hand out, Kai speaks up. "Hey, are you - ?"

"G - Get out," Lloyd chokes immediately, the words coming out quickly and sounding almost like a pained whisper that's directed at someone not even present, and Kai jumps in surprise.

He almost thinks that Lloyd's telling _him_ to get out, but that conclusion gets more questionable by the second, especially considering the fact that the guy won't even _look_ at him right now.

Staring helplessly, Kai grits his teeth as the groaning gets louder and more painful until he can find it in him to speak again. "Uh, what?" he asks lamely, then shakes his head. "Lloyd, are you okay?"

"Out! Get me out! Let me out!"

_That's not a great sign._

Kai tries to convince himself to calm down, mind racing, unable to figure out what might've caused this and unsure of what to do in order to fix it. If he even _can_. Seeing his best friend, his little brother, close to ripping out his own blonde hair and tensed up like he's being tortured, puts Kai into an immediate state of terrified alarm. He finally takes hold of Lloyd's shoulders and yells out, "Dude, woah, calm down!"

As if the touch had triggered something within Lloyd, he automatically freezes up.

Then, he slumps over to the side.

Taken by surprise at how sudden it all is, Kai's not sure how his reflexes are fast enough to catch Lloyd, but he's left staring at his unconscious and unmoving friend in dark silence.

All he can hear for a moment is his own rapid breathing echoing off the basement walls. The thought makes him quickly bring his head down to Lloyd's chest. Listening to a steady beat and feeling the rise and fall moving him, Kai lets out a sigh of relief. He's not even sure what he'd been expecting or what he'd been so worried about, but at least Lloyd's decidedly _alive_. That much is enough to calm him down and let him begin thinking rationally and reevaluating the situation before him.

That is, right up until he hears various loud footsteps rushing above the two of them.

Realization clicks in his head and he's whipped his head over to the door above them, knowing full well that their friends must have heard the two yelling, understanding they must think Lloyd is in some sort of danger. And they wouldn't exactly be wrong about that, from the looks of things. On top of that, knowing that he'll have a lot of explaining to do when they barge in, he inwardly groans.

Of course, he has to put that worry to the sidelines when he feels Lloyd shift in his arms and hears a faint groan.

He looks down at Lloyd and nearly lets go when he sees the Green Ninja give a startled jump and wake himself up far too fast. Lloyd's shoulders tense up, like being in Kai's arms is one of the most uncomfortable sensations of his life.

When Kai looks into the panic-filled green eyes of his friend, something seems considerably... _off_ about them.

The unease within him only increases when those same eyes narrow in what almost looks like discomfort mixed with annoyance, directing a detached expression that Lloyd hasn't before given to Kai.

And, "Oh, for fuck's sake," is the first thing that Lloyd says.

* * *

Lloyd likes to think that he's a pretty rational person. Relatively speaking, anyway.

There are few things in the world that can make him lose his cool and start making irrational choices. The primary of which is family - a touchy subject, he's started to realize - and that in itself branches out. His family being in danger can certainly throw him off. Being separated from them is one thing that sends his mind into an immediate panic, though he'd never openly admit that, mostly for fear of concerning those around him. And dealing with basically _anything_ regarding his father often times turns Lloyd into the worst decision-maker this world's ever seen.

That being said, he'd thought he was being careful this time around.

Maybe he should've told more than just Kai about his little unintentional nighttime detours to speak with Morro, but he'd considered it personal in a way that only Kai would fully understand. On top of that, he didn't want to bring them unnecessary worry. Kai worries about him regardless.

There's a voice in the distance, yelling at him, though he can't make out what they're saying or why they're here.

And if Lloyd could have figured it all out and dealt with it on his own, he definitely would have. Asking Kai to join him as he attempted to reach out to Morro through meditation seemed to him as taking more than enough caution.

He was wrong.

Obviously.

That's why he'd nearly immediately felt a spike of pain in his head - a type of pressure he'd never felt before, like all the world's information was being poured into his brain at once, like someone else was _right there_ alongside his thoughts and like they were thinking at the same time as him - and concluded with undeniable certainty that it had to be Morro. For whatever reason, he'd _felt_ Morro in a way he didn't even know to be possible, similar to when his body had been possessed yet also different. More chaotic.

And now he's lying in pitch darkness, unable to will his eyes to open, feeling himself slowly regain consciousness as he struggles to take in the sensations around him due to how hard his head is still pounding. Now, though, it at least feels like the tail end of a headache and gradually fades away.

" _Wake up_!"

 _Well_ , looks like the headache's back.

The voice is booming in his ears now, startling him into an awake alertness. The distance between them is clearly just a few meters, now that he's really hearing them - _her_ \- in full.

His eyes shoot open in alarm and he quickly realizes that he's being held in the arms of a strange looking woman.

He can barely take in her appearance, but he makes a few notes in the back of his mind that stand out among others. The fact that she's _missing an eye_ definitely catches his attention, followed by how unkempt her general appearance is. Her messy hair is partly tied up in the back and the one good eye she has is baggy and staring at him with a hardened gaze that pierces through him. That all being said, despite the clear differences, her facial features are instantly recognizable.

It's _Nya_. He knows it's her.

Lloyd can't help but shake his head, feeling even more disturbed by the fact that they're surrounded by a darkness that just won't go away, and that it wasn't a result of him still attempting to fully wake up. The scenery, along with the woman above him, are all thrusting him right into a state of panic. "What?" he asks, the voice that comes out of him not at all sounding like his own. "Wh - What's going on?"

Even though he knows he must look like a terrified child at this point, the woman sighs in slight relief.

"Oh, good," she says, though he doesn't know what's good about any of this. "That was freaky, man. You actually fell asleep here? I didn't even think that was possible. Dream anything?"

She's sounding a lot more casual and calm than he has any patience for at the moment. A few seconds pass as a look of sheer bafflement covers his face.

"...Dream? Nya?"

She blinks down at him in surprise, eyebrows shooting up incredulously.

For some reason, _that's_ what's gotten a reaction out of her.

The shock doesn't last very long. She levels a stern look at him, one that's unimpressed yet almost amused and entertained. He's not sure which part of it all bothers him the most. "Uh. Listen, Morro, I like you and all. Not sure why, I just do. And don't ever bring that up again," He barely even has the time to register that _she called him Morro_ and to properly freak out about that before she continues. "But I don't know if we're close enough for you to be calling me that. Just X is fine."

Lloyd doesn't remember the last time he was this confused.

Even though he knows in the back of his mind that he should be more focused on the question of who _he_ is at the moment, he feels more inclined to find out who _she_ is, first.

She definitely looks and sounds like Nya, just different, like this is some highly convincing performance she's putting on. There's a look in her eye that somehow conveys authority and wisdom, giving her an intimidating air, and the rough skin on her fingers shows that her hands have obviously been through a lot of trauma. There are too many _little_ things that show this can't possibly be the same woman he remembers having a conversation with just hours prior.

"X? But, you're - "

Looking down, he sees hands that _definitely_ aren't his, and he's back to honing in on what's arguably the most pressing issue.

It takes about five seconds for the woman to realize that Lloyd's started panicking.

She forces him into an upright position and moves in front of him, steadying his shoulders, and she's looking at him as if he's just grown a second head. "Dude! Morro, calm down! What is _up_ with you?"

Even through her obvious attempts at getting him to be more coherent, the fact that she's called him that again sends him into a mindless frenzy.

He shakes her hands off, the touch overwhelming him more than anything else. "I'm not Morro!" he exclaims in her face. He knows he sounds hysterical and that his volume is unnecessary, but he finds it hard to control or process just how uncomfortable and _wrong_ everything is. His mind is screaming at him that he should've just left Morro alone, that engaging with all of this was a mistake, and he bombards her with questions before he even has the time to think about what he wants to ask. "Please, tell me what's going on! You're Nya, aren't you? Why are you here? What _happened_ to you?"

Thankfully, she either understands that he's clearly not who she believes he is, or she gets that he'd like some space. Either way, not-Nya promptly backs off, still kneeling in front of him.

It's like he can see the gears turning in her head, her eyes cast downward as she thinks quietly.

Then, like something's finally clicked, she nods to herself and states with a dreading certainty, "You're...Lloyd."

He lets out a relieved breath.

"Yeah. I am."

A moment of silence passes between them as she runs his words through her head.

Oddly enough, she starts laughing.

It begins low and manic as she puts a hand to her face, then runs it through her messy and uneven bangs, and only descends into mad giggling afterward. She shakes her head for a moment, as if still trying to process the reality of the situation. Lloyd can definitely relate. It's strange - the fact that someone else being just as confused and lost as him is making him feel ever so slightly better - and he allows her laughter to die down at the same time that his own addrenaline subsides.

She abruptly stands up. It catches him off-guard, but seeing her in full view paints a much different picture to when he'd first analyzed her up close. This woman - X, she'd called herself, even though he knows she has to be Nya - looks much like a seasoned warrior. He finds himself more and more intruiged by the second.

"Come on," she says, looking much more relaxed now than she had before. "Let's chat."

As she says it, she leans forward and reaches a hand out to him.

A million things run through his mind after that.

Taking one look into the misty darkness, Lloyd contemplates the idea of rejecting her - someone he's technically just met, someone who looks so much like his friend and yet so much _unlike_ her - as opposed to wandering around in what appears to be nothing but an empty abyss. He then stares at her outstretched, inviting gesture. Just what could he do on his own? It's technically not the first time he's seen the Departed Realm and, to be even more generous, he's also sort of been here before. Just not physically. Before, he always had a way out.

Now, though?

Now, he's not even sure there _is_ a way out.

Let alone a way for him to get any information. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around them and here this woman is, openly offering to help without him even having to ask.

Lloyd might not know her. He certainly doesn't trust her enough. Something about the way she looks at him with such affection, though, puts him at a strange ease.

It's what ultimately drives him to take her hand and pull himself up.

* * *

"This is gross. Stop hugging me," is the second thing that Morro says, squirming in the Fire Ninja's arms as he's stared at with wide and bewildered eyes, though his muscles are slightly behind his mind in terms of waking up. When Kai is obviously too shocked to let go, Morro starts physically pushing him away and puts a hand to the red-clad man's face. "Seriously, get off. I'm not the Green Ninja."

To be absolutely fair, Kai isn't _exactly_ hugging him. It's a lot more like the Red Ninja is just holding his previously collapsed body. But whether that's better or worse doesn't matter much to Morro, at this point.

What _does_ matter is figuring out what's going on.

He's not quite used to his surroundings being so solid and tangible, to the haze that's been permanently stuck in his mind vanishing and leaving him unimaginably sober. He's so used to being able to block out the forced sensations of the visions around him that suddenly losing that ability leaves him lost. Reality isn't quite so subjective anymore. It's like he's been revived, somehow.

 _Revived_.

If his assumption is anything to go off of, that shouldn't be too far from the truth.

He can feel the confusion and concern targeted at him and doesn't hesitate to roll his eyes, irritation growing by the second. Kai's emergent tone serves only to annoy Morro. "What?" he asks, clearly not reading the situation correctly. "What do you mean? Lloyd, is everything alright?"

Morro wonders if Kai is deaf, or something.

"I just said that I'm not him!"

Kai only blinks down at him. He frowns definitively, like his brain's decided not to work any longer. And he doesn't even react when Morro finally removes his hand from the guy's cheek.

"...What's going on?"

In all honesty, that's what Morro would like to know.

But he understands all too quickly once something catches his attention in the corner of his eye. One mirror on the far end of the room, just near the door, leaning inconspicuously against the wall as if it's not at all offending anyone. And inside of it doesn't show Morro, doesn't show the features he's come to recognize as his own. It's not even what he'd remember looking like when he'd possessed the Green Ninja not so long ago, though he'd consider that a faint memory by now.

It's just Lloyd Garmadon.

He stares at green eyes in the sheet of glass and they stare back.

He wonders for a brief moment if this is Hell, if he's finally made it.

That can't be quite right, though. He can pretty easily tell the difference between this reality and the Departed Realm. It's hard to describe, but he can _feel_ the difference. He briefly recalls the short period in which he thought he'd been quite literally pulled from his body, from his mind, and placed into that of the Green Ninja's. He could feel both of them melding together, their thoughts playing at once in a cacophany that made the two feel numb all over and practically sent them into immediate shock.

It wasn't pleasant, needless to say. Part of Morro wonders if it even really happened or if he'd just imagined it. It doesn't seem like an experience he'd have made up in his head, especially considering what he's looking at now.

Who'd have known that he'd be forced into the body of the same boy he'd decided to possess before?

This must be destiny playing some cruel joke on him.

 _Fuck destiny._ He possibly means that more now than he has in quite some time.

At least destiny is interested in targeting those around him all the same, because he can't help but feel some level of satisfaction when the door swings open and the Red Ninja snaps his wide-eyed gaze up, face panicked and drained of color like he's a kid who's just been caught doing something he shouldn't be.

Though he can see all of them through the doorway and as they rapidly push their way into the cramped space, making Morro feel a lot more claustrophobic than he's comfortable admitting, it takes him a moment to properly recognize them within their dimly lit surroundings. He's only just registered that they're probably underground, one way or another, judging by lack of windows and the creaking from above them and the stairs he can see just behind the other ninja. And he's not above saying - to himself, at least - that he's very much _not_ okay with that.

The Black Ninja speaks first. Morro's pretty sure he remembers the Earth user's name as Cole, remembering him to be the one who looked a lot more like a leader than any of the rest. "We heard screaming. What's wrong?"

It's more of a demand than a question and Morro has a feeling Kai hears it that way, too.

That's probably why he can see Kai's neck redden, flushed and stammering, unsure of how to explain himself. "I...guys, alright, listen - "

And Morro thinks he's doing the Red Ninja a favor by speaking up in the middle of that. Though, mostly, he just doesn't want to deal with secondhand embarrassment coming from someone who's momentarily cradling him like a child and who can't bring his thoughts together for more than three words at a time. "You seriously have ten seconds to get off of me before I throw you at the wall," he warns, and he's sure he'll make good on that threat if he can also remember how to work his limbs during the course of those ten seconds.

"Dude, Lloyd, what's up with you?"

"I'm not him!" the Wind user snaps, the increasing displeasure boiling over. "Stop calling me that. I'm Morro!"

Kai immediately drops Morro to the ground after hearing that, pulling himself away as if he's just touched a hot stove.

There's a thud as Morro's head hits the floor and he curses aloud, rubbing at it once he's brought himself to sit upright. He supposes he deserved that.

He looks up at the retreating expression on Kai's face - now more closed-off and accusatory, steeling himself in a way as if putting up a mental wall between him and Morro will do him any good at this point - and wonders if playing along as Lloyd would have been easier. But he doesn't have any reason to do that. Not really, anyway. Morro would rather be in his _own_ body, thank you very much. Whatever kind of awful day the Red Ninja must be having right now, Morro thinks his tops it.

All the same, he doesn't interrupt as Kai works through his head what's going on and turns his attention over to his friends, who must all be even more out of the loop of what's going on. After all, Morro makes the connection that he remembers seeing Lloyd speak to Kai about his dreams, but doesn't remember that conversation happening at any other point with anyone else. That's not to say that Morro had watched Lloyd at every moment of every day. Just, you know, _enough_.

Enough to know with near certainty that it probably hadn't happened.

But he can berated himself for his obvious obsession sometime later.

Now, he stays silent, allowing Kai to dig a deeper grave for the both of them to lie in. "Okay, I'm gonna need to do some explaining here."

"I'd say so," the White Ninja nods. He mostly looks concerned, as opposed to the others, who all look a mix of that and furious.

The Blue Ninja - Jay, he thinks - is also somewhat of an exception to that. There are so many emotions passing over his face periodically that it's hard to tell exactly what he's feeling overall. One is prominent enough, though. Fear. "Morro? He - he just said Morro, right?" he stutters out, pointedly ignoring eye contact with Morro as if that'll somehow protect him. He instead focuses on his friend, barring his arms in front of himself. "Oh, man. Why is...why is _Morro_ here, Kai?"

Morro doesn't know why he feels displeasure at someone fearing him. He used to live off of that fear. It's now instead something of a hindrance.

That's why he decides to speak up, tearing Jay's eyes down almost against his will. "I'm not here because I want to be, moron," Morro starts, rude and almost drawling in a way that really sounds unfitting for Lloyd's voice. He crosses his legs, not even bothering to stand despite the fact that he's the only one left on the floor, like it's somehow beneath him. "I was minding my own business and doing - you know, _dead person things_ \- before your beloved Green Ninja decided to drag me into a _very_ unstable housing situation."

"How is it that you can just say words without them meaning anything?" Kai asks, deadpan and thoroughly unimpressed.

Morro throws his hands in the air, his gruff frustration not at all sounding natural when coupled with Lloyd's voice. "We were both in his head at the same damn time!"

And Kai is far too happy with himself after that, his smugness only making Morro's scowl grow deeper. "See? Was that so hard?"

It's funny that Morro's been in the world of the living not even five minutes and he already wants to kill.

"Kai," Nya cuts through their bickering, somehow looking even more pissed off and defensive than all the rest of them put together. "Explain. Now."

More than a part of Morro is far too happy to see Kai's satisfied grin disappear, but on top of that, hearing Nya's voice sends an odd familiar warmth through his chest. And he's definitely not happy about _that_.

He has to remind himself that, while this girl is technically X, she's not at all inclined to treat Morro with the same type of benevolence that X always has. They don't really know each other.

It's hard for him to say that he and X know each other, exactly, but they've at least developed a comfortable dynamic. She's been through his mind, through his memories, and he's opened himself up to her freely. As one of the only people within the Departed Realm he decided was worth talking to, she's consistently kept him grounded to some level of sanity amongst the chaos. She's the closest thing Morro has to a friend outside of - well, he's not going to think about that - and this girl, Nya, is someone he's quite frankly never really gotten the chance to speak to.

At least, in any situation where he hasn't been simultaneously attacking her.

He supposes that actually applies to everyone in this room.

Morro's suddenly even less comfortable after that realization, if possible.

He's almost glad when Kai decides to talk, having been given a few seconds to formulate himself. "Alright, guys," the Red Ninja begins, cutting through the tense silence and taking a step forward without the normal confidence that he always seems to carry himself with. Everyone else, even Morro, stays in a silent attentive state as Kai sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Even I'm not really sure what just happened, but I think I'm piecing it together. Let's, uh...let's start from the beginning."


End file.
